
Gass_L 

i 

Book 

Copyright^? 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
CONDUCT 

An Outline of Ethical Principles 



BY 



A 



S. A. MARTIN 



Professor of Philosophy 
Lafayette College 




BOSTON: RICHARD G. BADGER 

TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED 



Copyright, 1916, by Richard G. Badger 



All Rights Reserved 









FEB 4 \w 



The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. 
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA 



'CI. A 455552 

vu© ( , 



/, $1 Otfi. 



PREFACE 

The purpose of this book is twofold. First ; to present in con- 
venient form the elements of ethical science, by brief introduc- 
tion to subjects usually included in the course in ethics offered in 
our colleges and normal schools. 

In planning the book for such use, it is presumed that the 
student will be directed to the fuller discussion of these subjects 
by the great writers of ancient and modern times ; and that such 
reading will be worked over, by discussion in class room, and by 
written exposition of special topics. The book is made as brief 
as possible, to leave opportunity for this supplementary discus- 
sion ; which, in such a subject as ethics, is much more important 
than anything that can be taken by memory from a text-book. 
The works that are chiefly had in mind to supplement this intro- 
duction are Seth's Principles of Ethics and Green's Prolegomena. 

Second ; it is hoped that the views here presented, though not 
pretending to any great originality, may serve to emphasize some 
concepts of ethics that have not been sufficiently regarded. Chief 
among these are the following: 

i. Ethics should be treated as a natural science, and the distinc- 
tion between the methods of treating moral science and the 
natural sciences entirely abandoned. Its principles are grounded 
in the same eternal scheme of things, which we call nature ; they 
are discovered by similar processes of induction, and are as abso- 
lute and permanent as the laws of psychology or biology. 

2. The distinction, so generally made, between Christian ethics 
and philosophic ethics rests on a misconception of both. There is 
but one ethics, and its principles are eternal. Revelation does 
not alter facts nor principles; it only makes them known. 

3. The principles of ethics must not be confused with our 

3 



4 PREFACE 

conception of those principles. Our laws and customs can 
never be anything more than our conception of those principles. 
Our conceptions change, but the principles cannot change. 
4 The offices of instinct, taste, and imagination are more fully 
considered, as important factors of conduct. 

In the study of ethics, we are greatly embarrassed by the unset- 
tled state of its terminology. The significance of so many of its 
most important terms is vague, and their usuage so inconsistent, 
that it is difficult to understand what has been written, or to be 
sure that we shall be understood. 

The word conscience, for example, is one of the most con- 
spicuous terms in every discussion of moral phenomena, and it is 
specially unfortunate that it is used, even by careful writers, in 
at least three distinct and widely different senses. It is used to 
denote the mind's ability to distinguish right from wrong ; and in 
such cases means the faculty elsewhere called perception. 

It is used to express the sense of moral obligation, or the im- 
pulse to act in certain ways, without conscious regard for the 
ends to be reached by such action ; and in this sense it is simply 
an instinct. 

Again it is used as the equivalent of judgment; as when we 
say, conscience approves or disapproves. Finally, it is used to 
express the distress of mind commonly called remorse. It seems 
best, therefore, to avoid, as far as possible, the use of the term 
conscience, and to denote each of these functions by its more 
specific name, perception, instinct, judgment or emotion. 

The word law is also ambiguous. Sometimes, especially with 
the older writers, it means a rule of conduct prescribed by some 
superior authority which the inferior is commanded to obey, but 
may disobey. More frequently, especially in all scientific discus- 
sion, it means simply an order of events, or method of action — 
e. g., the law of gravitation. In ethics it is necessary to use the 
word in both senses, and great care is needed to avoid confusion. 

The terms mind and soul are not well discriminated. In these 



PREFACE 5 

pages we have, for the most part, used the word soul when we 
meant the whole spiritual man — intellect, feelings and will ; and 
mind when we referred rather to the intellect alone. 

In the whole field of ethics we need to give careful attention 
to definitions and to discriminate sharply between synonymous 
terms. 

Following these suggestions the reader will, we trust, find the 
science of ethics not only profitable, but a most attractive field 
of study. 
1 91 6, Lafayette College. 



CONTENTS 
Chapter Page 

Introduction 1 1 

Book i — Factors of Conduct 

I Springs of Action 23 

II Instinct 26 

III Taste 34 

IV Habit 42 

V Custom 47 

VI Imagination . . 50 

VII Conscience 56 

VIII Moral Perception 63 

IX Self-Direction 67 

Book 2 — The Principles of Ethics 

I Motives 75 

II Affections 79 

III Obligation 85 

IV Responsibility 88 

V The Standard of Moral Judgment 92 

VI Theories of Ethical Standard 95 

The Standard Imperative — The Standard Intui- 
tive 

VII Theories of Ethical Standard — Continued 107 

The Standard Utilitarian — The Standard Evo- 
lutionary — Self-Realization 
7 



8 CONTENTS 

Chapter Page 

Book 3 — Personal Ethics 

I Virtue 119 

II Christian Ethics 124 

III Moral Pathology 132 

IV Remorse 137 

V The Contents of Virtue 141 

Justice, Mercy, and Reverence 

VI The Culture of Virtue 152 

VII Duty and Duties 161 

Duties 

VIII Personal Duties 169 

Temperance — Common Sense 

IX Personal Duties — Continued 1 79 

Industry — Thrift — Avarice — Sincerity — 
Courage — Education 

X Social Duties 189 

War 

XI Social Duties — Continued 203 

The Community — Professional Duties — Benevo- 
lence — The Family 

XII Casuistry „ . . . 219 

XIII The Metaphysics of Ethics 226 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 



INTRODUCTION 

1. Philosophy is an attempt to interpret facts. Its purpose is 
to explain how things come to pass as they do. It looks behind 
phenomena to find their causes, and traces these causes back as 
far as possible toward the ultimate ground of being. 

It seeks the principles which underlie the manifestations of 
physical and psychical energy, and defines the laws of their activ- 
ities. 

2. The Philosophy of Conduct is such an inquiry into the 
rational activities of men. It seeks a rational basis for the judg- 
ments that approve or disapprove the actions, feelings and states 
of mind of ourselves and others. It inquires into the ground of 
moral distinctions, and attempts to justify the moral sentiments 
and the dictates of conscience. It inquires as to the standard of 
right; first, whether there be any fixed standard; second, 
whether it can be defined and, third, how it is to be applied and 
what are its sanctions. 

3. Every such inquiry must start with some presumptions > — 
some principles which may be regarded as certainly true and per- 
manent and settled in the constitution of the universe. 

In so large a field as human conduct it is difficult to find many 
such principles that will command universal assent. Many prop- 
ositions that are practically accepted may be questioned on the- 
oretic grounds by this or that school of philosophy; some must 
be regarded as hypothetical, — probable but not demonstrable, 
and others must be held as the least difficult of alternatives, 
neither of which seems satisfactory. 

On the other hand there is no other field of philosophy that is 
so richly supplied with data on which to work. Each individ- 
ual consciousness is a laboratory well equipped for this study, 
and all history, biography and poetry contribute to our store of 

11 



ia INTRODUCTION 

facts and illustrations of principles. 

4. We may assume the following propositions as sufficiently 
assured to justify their acceptance without discussion. 

First; there is a rational basis for conduct. Man is by his 
very constitution a rational being. Every moral sentiment, each 
instinctive impulse, all feeling of obligation and sense of Tight- 
ness in the normal soul is consistent with reason, and springs 
from some real necessity in the constitution of the world. There 
is always a reason why right is right; and, though we may not 
always be able to discover the reason, we do not doubt that there 
is one. 

Second; there is a real difference between right and wrong; 
a difference in quality which is fundamental, permanent and not 
dependent on our judgment. The distinction between right and 
wrong is not made by our moral sense, but by our moral sense 
and judgment we discover and recognize the distinction which 
exists in the nature of things, — in the constitution of the world. 
Nothing is right because we think it right, but we think it right 
because it is so. The distinction is objective, not subjective. 

Third; there is a fixed standard by which moral quality is 
determined, just as there are fixed principles of mathematics or 
physics. Conduct must conform to this standard, just as num- 
bers must conform to mathematical laws. 

Fourth ; this standard of right is the measure of human respon- 
sibility. Consequences of its violation are just as orderly, certain 
and inevitable as are the consequences of physical action. The 
effects of wrong feeling, willing or states of the soul follow in 
the natural order of our constitution, and are no more subject to 
our will than are the effects of chemical agents or the order of 
the planets. We are responsible — that is we respond, react or 
are affected by our moral states and conduct just as certainly and 
orderly as we react to physical forces. 

5. There is nothing variable, nothing arbitrary, nothing sub- 
jective in the laws of ethics. There is no reason to regard the 



INTRODUCTION 13 

philosophy of conduct as in any manner or degree less positive or 
less exact than any other branch of philosophy or science. The 
only uncertainty is our knowledge, but that does not affect the 
eternal laws and principles. 

Systems of ethics come and go, as systems of astronomy or other 
sciences do; but, as the stars keep on their courses quite unaf- 
fected by our systems, so the moral universe goes on unchanged 
from the beginning of the present order of things. 

The distinctions that we make between the various systems of 
ethics must not be thought of as rival schemes, which may be 
accepted or rejected by popular vote and so become our laws of 
conduct. They can be nothing more than our conceptions of the 
relations, principles and laws which are established in the consti- 
tution of the universe. For example, Christian Ethics and Phil- 
osophic Ethics are convenient terms to denote particular points 
of view of conduct, or different sources of knowledge of ethical 
principles, but they mean nothing more. There is only one 
ethics, only one scheme of moral government, and this is fixed 
and eternal. There is no ethics dependent on Christianity, nor 
any that is affected by Philosophy; just as there is no such thing 
as Christian chemistry or a Philosophic multiplication table. 
That which is is. No matter what light we see by, if only we 
see the things that be. Revelation, as the very word denotes, 
is but the unveiling of the truth, and has no creative power, and 
Philosophy can not change the character of right and wrong 
any more than it can add a cubit to our stature. Thinking a 
thing to be right can no more make it right than thinking that 
the square of four is fifteen makes it so. 

6. Ethics is first of all inductive. It must begin with a careful 
examination of the phenomena of its peculiar field. As in all 
science, the first important matter is the data, — the things given 
— the facts and experiences from which we may hope to infer the 
principles which underlie them. 

7. The term conduct includes all voluntary, rational activity — 



14 INTRODUCTION 

everything that is done "on purpose." It does not include mere 
mechanical movements, nor such bodily activities as are due to 
reflex nervous energy undirected by the will, such as breathing 
or swinging of the hands in walking, but only such activities as 
are guided by choice or volition, whether the action be mental 
or physical. It also includes states and habits of the soul so far 
as these are the result of voluntary effort. 

8. Strictly speaking, all conduct is mental — psychical. Bodily 
action has in itself no moral quality. We judge of conduct only 
in so far as we can reasonably assume a purpose or intention. 
The acts of a sleep walker or the insane are non-moral, and we 
do not judge them as right or wrong. But since the act of nor- 
mal beings is the expression of the will, and in most cases the 
only index of the will, we commonly include the bodily acts in 
our concept of conduct, and thus impute to all voluntary bodily 
actions the moral quality which we infer as belonging to the 
soul that directed the act. 

9. All conduct implies a purpose; all rational activity is di- 
rected to some end, it is intended to effect some thing, to attain 
to some object. 

These objects to which our actions are directed may be more 
or less remote. Few objects are attained to by a single act of 
will, and the immediate object is in most cases only one of a ser- 
ies, often a very long and greatly involved series, of objects lead- 
ing to some definite end. 

The remote object we call the ultimate object, or the purpose 
of the series. Of course no object is absolutely ultimate. Our 
purposes extend vaguely forward indefinitely, but we speak of 
the end definitely before the mind — the culmination of the series 
of acts contemplated when the will moves, as the ultimate end 
or purpose of conduct. It is the consummation of the course of 
action under consideration. For example, your immediate object 
of today's study is to learn today's lesson ; but this only that you 
may master the subject, and that as a part of your education, 



INTRODUCTION 15 

and that again as a part of your projected scheme of life. 

The distinction between immediate and remote purposes is 
exceedingly important and often difficult to define, for conduct is 
not a series of disconnected acts, not even a chain of related acts, 
but a vast and complicated tissue of actions, all more or less co- 
herent, and directed more or less consistently to certain definite 
ends. 

Therefore we speak of a course of conduct, a scheme of action 
or a system of behavior. 

10. The terms purpose and motive and intention are often close 
synonyms, and are not very well defined even in good usage. For 
the sake of clearness let us use purpose to denote the particular 
object we wish to attain, intention to include the whole series of 
acts involved in the attainment of the purpose — the whole pro- 
gram we intend to execute in the pursuit of our purpose. The 
motive is that which lies back of our volition. It is the desire 
or impulse which causes us to choose that purpose. For example, 
my love of power is the motive which impels me to seek office. 
I form the purpose of going to Congress, and intend to use the 
means necessary to accomplish my purpose. 

All this is a thoroughly rational process, — it involves the emo- 
tions, the judgment, thinking and volition. Every purpose im- 
plies a reason why it was chosen. Action without a purpose is 
called insane, and a purpose not justified by reason is called fool- 
ish. The forming of purposes is the chief function of the mind : 
the pursuit of purposes is conduct. 

11. But when we come to the analysis of conduct we find a 
great variety of factors entering into the formation of these pur- 
poses. 

We find the immediate cause of our purposes is always a desire 
of some kind. We exert ourselves only to satisfy some craving, 
some sort of reaching out after something. What these cravings 
are depends on many things ; somewhat on the native quality of 
the soul, due to its constitution, its inherited bent or inclination, 



1 6 INTRODUCTION 

the character and strength of its instincts ; somewhat on the effect 
of all the experiences of past conduct, forming habits and tastes 
and associations ; and somewhat on the influence of environment 
and the sympathetic power of social customs of thought and 
action. 

12. These are the chief factors in the formation of our pur- 
poses, but the will seems to have a certain independence, and to 
be able to guide conduct as the sailor steers his ship, not without 
the force of the wind, but yet not helplessly driven. So we feel 
ourselves free and self-directed, notwithstanding the fact that 
our will is moved by motives that are, at least to a great degree, 
external and beyond our control. 

In every case we form our purposes for some reason that seems 
to us sufficient. However we may insist that we are free to 
choose one course or another, we always acknowledge the perti- 
nence of the question, why do you choose this course ? We there- ' 
by confess that as rational beings we act, not from caprice or 
from spontaneous impulse, but from some cause capable of ration- 
al definition, and that anything other than such rational conduct 
is unworthy of us. 

13. This acknowledgment of our obligation to act rationally, 
to be able to assign, at least to ourselves, a reason for our conduct 
implies a philosophy of conduct. The function of choice implies a 
reason why we choose one course rather than another. It implies a 
judgment that one course is better than another, and all judgment 
implies a standard by which to judge, a measure by which to 
mete. All our attempts to appreciate the excellence of conduct, 
all our sense of honor, or beauty of character, all our feelings 
of admiration and esteem imply that there are principles, perman- 
ent and definable, by which we may rightly judge — some tests 
of moral quality, something that gives meaning to the terms 
right and wrong, better and worse. 

14. It is true that practical morality has little thought for the 
philosophy of conduct. Our judgments of right and wrong, our 



INTRODUCTION 17 

sentiments of approbation or repulsion, seem so spontaneous and 
so positive that we do not often inquire into the grounds of our 
decisions. We feel that certain things are right, while others 
are repulsive to our moral sense, and we feel confident that our 
judgments and instincts are reliable in such premises, and are 
content to rest in this. 

But however reliable our moral instinct may be, and however 
positive our conviction that we know right from wrong, such in- 
stincts and spontaneous judgments are very liable to perversion, 
easily warped by passion or prejudice, and need the corrective 
authority of reason to hold them up to the consistent use of their 
own proper powers. 

14^2. It is the province of Philosophy to inquire into the charac- 
ter of our impulses, to test our spontaneous judgments, to estab- 
lish the validity of our moral sentiments. It is the office of 
Philosophy to reduce to some orderly, and if possible, complete, 
system the loose and partial moral reflections of ordinary exper- 
ience, to justify the instinctive impulses of our moral nature. 
It aims to determine the true tests of moral quality, and thus 
to define the course of highest excellence and the chief end of our 
existence. 

15. It is evident that, before we can define the ends of our 
existence, we must have some adequate knowledge of our nature, 
our powers and capacities and relations to other beings which are 
included with ourselves in the scheme of things which we call 
nature, or the universe. 

What man ought to do depends, first of all, on what he is able 
to do. The ends he may wisely seek are determined chiefly by his 
constitution and the constitution of the world. He must "run 
the race that is set before him'' if he is to run at all. He is shut 
up to certain limits by the finite nature of his powers, physical 
and mental. However free we may suppose him to be in his 
function of choice or volition, he is free to act only within the 
sphere assigned to him in the order of things. He must con- 



1 8 INTRODUCTION 

form his purposes to the larger purposes of that world of which 
he is but a recent tenant, who sojourns briefly amid eternal 
things. 

So we conceive of man as having a destiny distinctly lim- 
ited, and yet having within those limits ample scope to attain 
its full perfection, to develop in excellence and happiness and 
moral beauty according to his own self-control. 

"It is," says Burke, "the prerogative of man to be 
in a great degree the creature of his own making." We may 
not be able to explain the mystery of free will, but no man 
practically doubts that he is free to choose his purposes and direct 
his conduct. He feels that he is not shut up to the fatal effects 
of forces acting on him from without; but that he is in the 
midst of influences that act on him as he presents himself to 
them. Like the sailor, who, though he cannot direct the winds, 
can steer his ship to the port he chooses, and arrive there by the 
force of the same winds which drive another ship to another 
port, so man is driven by his desires, not aimlessly nor fatally, 
but as he himself directs. 

1 6. The philosophy of conduct is therefore much concerned 
with the powers of the soul and the laws of their activities. In 
a word, psychology is the basis of ethics. 

17. But, while psychology is the foundation of ethical philoso- 
phy, it is by no means the whole of it. The study of the forces 
and laws of our spiritual life leads us to fields much wider than 
our own personality. The student of physics is concerned not 
only with the specific qualities of the material in his laboratory, 
but its relations to the whole physical universe. He knows the 
handful of sand in his balances only after he has considered 
it in all its manifold relations, — what the distant sun effects 
upon it, how the force of gravity pulls it here or there, what 
the corroding acids will do to it, and how the mysterious laws 
of crystallization have formed its particles. Then having reduced 
his knowledge to certain terms of force and motion, he is con- 



INTRODUCTION 19 

fronted with the question, what are force and motion. Not 
only is the scope of philosophy universal, but it is impossible 
to separate one field of knowledge from another, or to limit 
our study of any branch of science to any particular group of 
phenomena. The fields of science overlap, or, rather let us 
say they blend and intermingle like the colors that compose 
the light of day. Truth is universal and a unit. 

"Flower in the crannied wall, 
I pluck you out of your crannies, 
Hold you here, root and all, in my hand. 
Little flower; but if I could understand 
What you are, root and all and all in all, 
I should know what God and man is." 

18. The sources of our knowledge of ethics are chiefly the phe- 
nomena exhibited in our own souls, the sense of obligation, the 
attraction and repulsion due to moral qualities, the bitter pangs 
of remorse and the sweet satisfaction of an approving conscience 
are examples of experiences, which, if rightly studied, should 
yield us knowledge of the principles that underlie the facts. 
The foundation of ethics must be established by induction, as 
the foundations of all sciences must be. We must observe and 
compare and interpret the facts as certified by human experi- 
ence. This is a task of no small difficulty, for we find a great 
deal of conflicting testimony, honestly offered, as the experi- 
ence of different souls; for it is extremely difficult to perceive 
facts clearly when passions and prejudice and habits are so 
largely involved. But having done our best to sift and certify 
this mass of evidence — having gathered and considered the facts 
of consciousness, we must go beyond the gates of personality, 
and study the relations in which we stand to all the universe, 
and the eternal scheme of things. In these relations we shall 
find the explanation of that moral obligation which we found 
impressed on consciousness. Here, if anywhere, we shall find 
the ultimate foundation of all moral law, and an answer to the 
question why right is right ; for the principles of ethics, like the 



20 INTRODUCTION 

principles of all other science, are parts of the constitution of 
the world. 

19. The changes. wrought upon the material world by all the 
forces acting on it have been enormous, but all the forces, work- 
ing through all the countless ages, have not changed a single 
property of matter, or modified by one hair's breadth a single 
law of nature. Evolution has produced new forms, new types 
and species of animate existence, but evolution lays not her 
hand upon the constitution of the world. That constitution 
has never been revised. The force of gravity, the chemical 
affinities and the mathematical relations of magnitude and num- 
bers are the same today as when God laid the foundations of the 
earth and gave laws to the universe. So the principles of mor- 
als, the quality of right and wrong are from eternity to eternity 
the same forever. 

20. No misconception of conduct is more utterly false, and 
practically more misleading, than the notion that ethics is some- 
how a matter of opinion, something determined by taste or con- 
venience or custom. Men change and times change with them, 
but the principles of moral truth are older than the earth, 
and shall abide when the elements shall melt with fervent heat, 
the heavens shall be, as an outworn garment, folded up and laid 
aside, still the laws of nature, moral laws as well as mathe- 
matical or physical, shall abide, steadfast and unchanged. 

"We find in law firm footing for the soul, 
The strength that binds the stars, and reins the sea, 
The base of things, the pillars of the world, 
The pledge of honor, and the pure cord of love, 
The form of truth, the golden floor of heaven. " 



BOOK I 



FACTORS OF CONDUCT 



Philosophy of Conduct 

CHAPTER I 

SPRINGS OF ACTION 

21. We hesitate to use the word "mechanical" to describe the 
activities of rational creatures, for all activities that involve con- 
sciousness are so much more than any machine can accomplish, 
or mechanical terms express. 

Nevertheless our physical organism is, first of all, a machine 
— a cunningly devised and intricate arrangement of bones, mus- 
cles, nerves, and other members, all geared and adjusted to carry 
on the activities of life, and, however much may be added by the 
animating soul within it, nothing is taken away from the physi- 
cal properties, nor any alterations made in the natural laws which 
pertain to material things. 

22. The relation between the physical and mental sides of our 
being is full of mystery, but there is nothing lawless or for- 
tuitous about it. Our bodies act as they are acted upon. They 
respond to influences from without and are subject to conditions 
within, just as any machine, and we may express these reactions 
in terms of physical science. 

Reaction is the convenient term to express the movements 
which are regularly correlated with states and activities of the 
nervous system, whether these states are accompanied by con- 
sciousness or not. Reaction is a neutral term, denoting a regular 
order of events, without positively asserting the relation of cause 
and effect ; but there is no reason why we should hesitate to speak 
of certain nerve states, or activities, as the cause of certain mus- 
cular movements, if by cause we mean one of the essential condi- 
tions of such movements. We may properly go further and 
assert, with Dr. James, that all consciousness is motor ; that is to 
say, every state of consciousness is definitely correlated with a 

23 



H THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

certain state of brain and nerves which has an immediate and 
specific effect on the whole physical organism, so that every 
neural state gives a certain impulse to the body and manifests 
itself in certain specific bodily movement. 

These states of the neural system may be due to external 
causes, or internal, or both. They may arise from the action of 
environment on the nervous system and produce action without 
involving consciousness either before or after the act. Or they 
may arise from external causes, but arouse consciousness at the 
same time they impel to action. Or they may be caused by the 
subjective impulse of memory, habit, or other mental conditions 
to which external influence furnishes merely the occasion. 
23. However these neural states are produced, they are always 
the immediate cause of bodily activity. 

It is necessary that every living organism be so constituted 
that the activities which are essential to its life and development 
may be performed without voluntary, or rational, or even con- 
scious direction of the bodily powers. Such functions as breath- 
rng are always automatic and for the most part unconscious. 
They are called reflex, or purely mechanical, and are accom- 
plished by the organism reacting on appropriate stimulus, just as 
a wheel turns when force is properly applied. In some cases 
such reactions are very simple, as when pepper applied to the 
nostrils causes sneezing. In other cases the reactions are rnarvel- 
ously complex, as in the wonderful phenomena called by the 
general name of instincts. But in all cases the quality of bodily 
action is due immediately to the character of the impulses given 
by the motor nerves, and the constitution and condition of the 
organism acted on. When these impulses are due solely to the 
external circumstances acting on the physical organism without 
arousing consciousness, they are purely mechanical, unrational 
and have no moral quality. When they are accompanied by con- 
sciousness they are called instincts, and are always more or less 
directed by the will. There is no hard and fast line separating 



SPRINGS OF ACTION 25 

reflex from instinctive impulses, nor any absolute distinction 
between instinctive and voluntary activities; but just in so far 
as action is directed by volition is it rightly called conduct. 

As the word itself implies, activities that are conducted, 
dictated, and controlled by the will, are properly called conduct. 
24. The impulses to action come partly from external circum- 
cumstances, partly from internal conditions; such as, appetites, 
habits, and the native disposition or bent of the mind, and partly 
from the mind's inherent power to attend to one or other of the 
forces acting on it. 

The function of the will seems to be like that of the steersman 
of the ship, to so utilize the forces by which motion is produced 
as to conduct the ship to the desired port. We may use this 
figure of the steersman and his ship to set forth the relation of 
the will to rational behavior. Considering the various influences 
which act upon the soul from without and from within as the 
currents and winds and waves, which impel the ship and the 
self directing power of the soul, as the sailor who conducts it. 
The influences which act upon the soul are numerous and varied. 
We may notice only a few of the more important and consider 
not only what they are, but especially how they exert their power, 
and the relation between them and the actual behavior which we 
call conduct. 

Taken in the most general sense, these influences which impel 
us to action may be called the Factors of Conduct. 



CHAPTER II 



INSTINCT 



25. The mainspring of the whole animate world is instinct. 
Every organism is dependent for its life on its adaptation 

to its environment. It must have organs appropriate to its 
need of food and the propagation of its kind, and to the per- 
formance of all its functions. 

These organs and adjustments must be provided before hand 
for each individual, and supplied with suitable environment. 

Each living germ must have the mysterious directing power 
sometimes called the architectonic principle — by which its forces 
are governed, so that it follows the particular line of develop- 
ment which constitutes its type or species, and brings forth fruit 
after its kind. 

These preadjustments of the organism to its environment 
and its function are partly organic and structural, and partly 
dynamic or motor. That is the organs needed must be pro- 
vided, and the necessary impulses given to cause the reactions 
that are required. 

These are the endowment of each living organism. The 
activities of the lower forms of animal life and the vegetable 
life are due to the reactions that are reflex and mechanical and 
devoid of all power of choice; but slight traces of self-direc- 
tion appear in the lower orders of animals, and become more 
and more prominent as the type of organism becomes higher 
and more complex. 

26. Between the merely reflex action, on the one hand, and 
rational self-direction on the other, lies the field of instinct. 
As it is impossible to draw any fixed line between reflex action 
and instinct, it is also impossible to say just where instinct 

26 



INSTINCT 27 

ends and intelligence takes up the reins of government. But 
it is certain that instinct is not a lower kind of reason, nor the 
germ from which reason is developed. Many of the things 
done under the direction of instinct are even more perfectly 
done than they can be done under the direction of reason. 

But the chief difference between instinct and reason is that 
instincts are always impulses to action. 

Their aim and effect is performance, not ideas. They are 
motives in the strict sense of that word, for they incite move- 
ment. They are the elemental factors in conduct, and are there- 
fore, of prime importance in morals, and a somewhat careful 
consideration of their character will be the best point of approach 
to the study of ethics. 

27. Instinct is usually defined as the faculty of acting in such 
a way as to accomplish certain ends, without foresight of the 
end, or previous training in the performance of the actions lead- 
ing to it. 

Many of the instincts of the higher animals impel to the per- 
formance of a long and complicated series of actions, involving 
great skill and remarkable adaptation of means to ends, requiring 
patience and pains and self sacrifice, yet all done without hesita- 
tion, with few mistakes and with no knowledge — so far as we 
can see, of the ends or purpose of the work. 

The building of dams by the beaver, or the social organization 
of the ant hill are familiar examples. 

The instincts of the irrational creatures are so numerous and 
diverse and ingenious that they excite our wonder and admira- 
tion. On them depends the life and happiness and perpetuity of 
every species of animal life. 

28. But man has a greater variety and more remarkable in- 
stincts than any other creature ; and they are no less necessary to 
our existence, our happiness and usefulness than those of the 
lower animals are to theirs. 

Such instincts as have to do with our bodily life are very early 



28 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

supplemented by intelligence, and are therefore less prominent 
in man than in brutes. The care of the child by its parents, for 
example, takes the place of instinct to such a degree that much 
of the direction formerly given by nature has ceased, and the 
child has become dependent on the intelligence of the parent to 
a much greater degree than the young of any other creature ; but 
he is still dependent on instinct for many impulses without which 
he could not survive, and without which the human species 
would soon become extinct. The millionaire's baby must work 
for its living just as the kitten or the calf must work. He must 
suck or die, and he must have the instinct to impel him to do it. 
The instincts that have to do with our physical life are most 
fundamental; without them we could not live, could not even 
make a start in life ; and they are necessary all through life, and 
furnish a large share of the impulses from which conduct springs. 
The appetites for food and drink and sex are primary instincts, 
which lead to a great variety of actions, and are the impelling 
forces in a large part of human conduct. 

29. But the instincts that are peculiar to our higher nature are 
perhaps even more important factors of conduct. 

These are numerous ; some of the more prominent of them are 
the instinct of curiosity, imitation, emulation, acquisition, self- 
preservation, etc. All of these and others are constant motive 
forces driving us to all the manifold activities which fill our 
lives. They are complicated in their impelling force, and may 
be distinguished and classified as primary and secondary, simple 
and compound, or in other ways for various purposes, but for our 
purpose we need only notice some of the leading characteristics 
of instincts in general. 

30. 1. Every instinct is organically connected with the organ- 
ism to which it belongs. The instinct of nest building belongs to 
creatures that lay eggs. The instinct of storing foods belongs 
to those creatures who cannot find daily rations at all seasons — 
such as bees, or squirrels. 



INSTINCT 29 

2. Each instinct is fully developed in anticipation of its use. 
None have the appearance of being extemporized to supply a 
want. The instinct of sucking is fully developed in all mammals 
at their birth. The new born calf struggles to its feet, hunts the 
mother's udder and proceeds to milk with perfect skill before 
he is an hour old. The instinct of migration manifests itself in 
birds long before the change of the season could be considered 
as the impelling cause. All creatures show marvelous skill in 
avoiding danger. The young partridge literally leaps from the 
shell to run and hide from his enemies, the common house fly 
shows a skill and alertness that is as marvelous as it is exasperat- 
ing. 

3. Instincts disappear when the occasion for them is past. The 
instinct of incubation appears just when there is need for such 
action as it prompts, and then passes away when the need is past, 
but recurs again and again as the occasion for it returns. 

4. Instincts are permanent when they serve permanent needs. 
The instinct of hunting is life-long with beasts of prey — for 
their life depends on it. The instinct which impels the rabbit to 
seek safety in flight, the oppossum to feign death, or the quail 
to hide, is active from birth to death. 

5. Instincts are reinforced by the actions to which they 
prompt, and are weakened by persistent neglect to respond to 
their behests. The pointer dog becomes more sensitive and eager 
by the exercise of his peculiar faculty. The well fed house cat 
becomes indifferent to mice when for a long time she has no 
occasion to hunt for food. Our sense of obligation becomes more 
delicate, and our impulse to right conduct stronger by habitual 
response to its suggestions, while the habit of disobedence dulls 
its intensity, and blunts its ability to mark nice distinctions be- 
tween right and wrong. It becomes a sluggish and feeble 
impulse toward right actions with little power to move the will 
— "Seared as with a hot iron" is the strikingly accurate descrip- 
tion of its condition. It is probably never extinguished, but it is 



30 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

benumbed and enfeebled by disuse. 

6. Instincts are supplemented and often superseded by intelli- 
gence. Much that we begin to do from instinct we continue 
to do from rational motives. We instinctively seek food, but we 
learn the art of cooking and agriculture. We instinctively seek 
safety, but we invent weapons of defense. The more intelligent 
we become the more we supplement the promptings of instinct 
by the use of reason, but we never grow independent of its im- 
pulses. 

Instinct is also supplemented by habit which is the immediate 
cause of the greater part of conduct. 

Man is indeed a rational creature, but his reason is the guide 
and director of his instincts and habits, rather than a substitute 
for them. 

Not only is man in his infancy as independent on instinct as 
are any of the lower animals, but he has more instincts than any 
other creature. His nature is so much larger, and his wants so 
much more numerous and varied that he has need of a greater 
number and variety of native impulses. But, being more intelli- 
gent, he sooner sees the ends to which these instincts lead, and 
sooner marks the difference between the ends and the means by 
which they may be reached, and, as occasions offer, he adapts the 
means to the ends, invents new means, and also seeks other ends. 
All this of course is the work of reason and beyond the range of 
instinct. 

31. The origin of instincts is an attractive subject. Until re- 
cently it was assumed that instincts, like the faculties and physi- 
cal structures with which they are correlated, were part of the 
original equipment of the creature to which they belong; and 
that each living species came into existence at some definite date 
substantially as it is at present. This view has been greatly 
modified, and in some respects superseded, by the belief that all 
animate creation has reached its present varied and complex 
forms from very simple beginnings, by a long, long series of 



INSTINCT 31 

slight variations, each of which had some small potency in the 
struggle for existence. Those changes that were effective to 
preserve life would add to the chances of survival of those indi- 
viduals that possessed them, and thus those qualities would tend 
to become the permanent characteristics of the species, or by de- 
veloping under different conditions tend to such divergence as to 
constitute new species. Thus by variations and heredity, in the 
fierce competition for food and space, the fittest to survive would 
drive the less fit out, and they alone survive. Such a process 
continued through very many generations would produce new 
specfes, develop new faculties and organs, and these in turn 
become the basis of still further evolution. 

So it may be conceived that instincts were evolved. The 
experience of life proved certain actions — certain conduct — to be 
more conducive to the welfare of the race, and being so, by long 
and consistent influence of heredity became organic in the con- 
stitution of the race. 

This theory lacks the evidence necessary to establish it as a 
settled doctrine. It is by no means certain that what we regard 
as the highest development of the moral faculties and instincts 
does tend to promote one's chances of survival. Indeed, it seems 
rather that the selfish man has the advantage in the struggle for 
existence, and the generous one severely handicapped. It seems 
also that the very best of our moral impulses are a distinct protest 
against seeking our own advantage. 

Yet it seems certain that variation, heredity and survival 
of the fittest account for so much of the marvellous adaptation 
of each creature to its environment which is so universal in 
animated nature, that perhaps even our moral instincts may be, | 
to some extent at least, included in the list of their achieve- 1 
ments. 

32. But whatever may have been the origin of instincts there 
can be no doubt as to the fact that they form a most important 
part in the equipment with which each individual comes into 



32 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

the world. 

33. The instinct which is most immediately connected with the 
ethical quality of conduct is the impulse to do right. 

The sense of moral obligation is one of the most familiar 
facts of human consciousness. The impulse to do certain things 
because we feel that we ought to do them and to refrain from 
others because we feel we ought not to do them is universal 
among men. 

The specific acts we feel thus constrained to do or to avoid 
are not just the same in the case of each individual; many 
influences intervene to modify and diversify the objective end 
of such impulses; but the feeling of obligation is the same, the 
motive force is alike in all cases. 

This obligation is felt as a command. It does not rise from 
any foresight of utility or pleasure to be gained. It assigns no 
reasons, offers no rewards, does not seem to spring from fear or 
physical constraint. 

It seems to have the urgency and imperative quality of a pos- 
itive force, which tolerates no parley and pays heed to no ex- 
cuse. In the familiar phase of Immanuel Kant it is a "cate- 
gorical imperative." 

34. This sense of moral obligation is a fundamental fact, of 
prime importance. It is from this datum that the philosophy 
of conduct really starts. It is the most important phenomenon 
that we shall have to consider. 

We may not agree with the intuitionalist that this is the 
sole guide and standard of moral rectitude, but whatever else 
we may find necessary to consider with it, whatever may be its 
origin, whatever standard we may discover by which to test 
the validity of its commands and however we may differ as to 
its purpose, the fact of its existence, the imperative character of 
its commands and the weight of its authority cannot be denied. 

This impulse to righteousness has all the characteristics of an 
instinct, and is best understood by considering it in that cate- 



INSTINCT 33 

gory. 

No other instinct is so important as this impulse to do the 
right. Nothing else has such potency for the individual and 
for the race as the sense of moral obligation, the instinct of 
righteousness. 

The impulses which we call instincts are for the most part 
permanent and persistent, but they are greatly modified by intel- 
ligence and habit and other influences, and in actual experi- 
ence we find it difficult to distinguish the elements due to in- 
stinct from those due to reflection or other causes. 

These blended influences may perhaps be best understood if 
we consider them as they present themselves to consciousness 
and are thought of as distinct and separate factors of conduct. 
Examples of such factors are taste, habit, custom, etc., which 
we may briefly notice. 



CHAPTER III 

TASTE 

35. Taste is, primarily, that bodily sense by which we dis- 
tinguish certain qualities of food, as sweet or sour, bitter or salt ; 
but by analogy the term is extended and applied to the ability 
to perceive and appreciate the quality of beauty in objects or 
actions both material and spiritual. It is, of course, the latter 
meaning that concerns us here. 

36. The feeling of satisfaction that we experience from the 
aesthetic qualities of actions and states of mind is one of the 
most influential factors in conduct, and deserves much more 
consideration than it is apt to receive. It is, indeed, our chief 
guide in reference to certain lines of behavior. To some minds 
at least, the feeling that an action is unseemly — in bad taste, is 
a more powerful deterrent than the feeling that it is immoral. 

There is a modicum of truth in Burke's assertion that in the 
age of chivalry "vice itself lost half its evil, by losing all its 
grossness," and though we may not follow him so far as to 
identify good taste with good morals, we must admit a very 
close relationship between them, and include taste as a prom- 
inent factor in the phenomena of conduct. 

37. As we shall find moral perception to be simply the power 
of the mind to interpret states of consciousness due to moral 
sense or instinct, so we will find taste to be exercised in reference 
to moral qualities just as it is exercised regarding physical or 
mental properties. 

The feeling of satisfaction, or admiration, which we experi- 
ence in viewing a fine rose, or a beautiful Greek temple, does 
pot seem to differ from the pleasure we experience in contempla- 
tion of some heroic deed or noble sentiment, except as the objects 

34 



TASTE 35 

differ. The state of mind is essentially the same. 

38. Taste consists in the appreciation of aesthetic values. These 
values depend on the harmony, proportion or fitness of things, 
in their several places and relations. These are qualities of con- 
duct quite as properly as they are properties of material things. 
A generous action or a magnanimous disposition appeals to our 
sense of beauty, and calls forth, not only our moral approbation, 
but also arouses our admiration and gratifies our sense of beauty. 
An act of cruelty or treachery not only offends our moral sense, 
but is repulsive to our taste — literally disgusting. We call such 
actions ugly, not by a figure of speech, but as actually revolting 
to our taste. 

In regard to actions that are not so grossly offensive to our 
moral sense, we use milder terms to express our sense of their 
aesthetic fault. We call them unseemly, unbecoming, indecorus 
or bad form. 

39. The aesthetic quality of conduct seems to correspond with 
what we commonly call its strictly moral quality. The Greeks 
expressed by the same term, — kalos meant either good or beauti- 
ful, or both. 

And, while we may not consent to this identifying of the 
aesthetic with the moral, we cannot fail to recognize the close 
analogy between them and the strong similarity between their 
respective influences on conduct. 

The sense of beauty calls forth the feeling of admiration, 
while the sense of Tightness demands performance. This seems 
to be the most obvious distinction between them, and even this is 
a difference of degree rather than of kind; for the recognition 
of moral excellence is always accompanied by the feeling of 
admiration, and the sense of beauty is a strong incentive to appro- 
priate conduct. 

These two faculties, the moral and the aesthetic, may be 
regarded as distinct but analogous functions of the soul; and 
the analogy is so close that it is not always possible to distinguish 



36 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

between them, nor to say with certainty whether the impulse to 
act in a particular way is due to the influence of the one or the 
other, or both ; for. that which our moral instinct urges us to do, 
our aesthetic sense always approves, and adds the influence of 
its approval to the impulse of the moral sense. 

40. It is to be observed that the impulses of these two faculties, 
while they are always harmonious — always urge to the same con- 
duct, do not always urge in the same degree. Some actions 
which are absolutely demanded by our moral instincts are but 
feebly approved by our taste; while other actions, highly approv- 
ed by taste, may have but little moral obligation. For example ; 
the duty of industrious labor on our ordinary tasks, which is so 
strongly urged by our moral sense, is not so highly appreciated 
by our sense of beauty, while the minor obligation of courtesy 
is greatly admired as a matter of taste. Such differences are 
explained in part by the effect of cultivation. Both taste and 
moral sense are capable of education, of increase in strength and 
in delicacy of perception, and the one may be highly cultivated, 
while the other is neglected. A man may have what we call a 
good conscience and at the same time a crude and barbarous 
taste, or one may have a refined sense of beauty and a conscience 
seared and inactive. 

41. In most cases, however, when there seems to be a want of 
harmony between these faculties, the difference is rather in the 
view presented to the mind. In any particular case attention is 
directed to certain features rather than to the well proportioned 
whole. An action which I know to be wrong may not offend 
my taste because I do not view it in all its fullness, in its rela- 
tions and effects. The skillful blandishments of the flatterer 
may be pleasing if I do not consider the dishonesty and selfishness 
that are behind the words. The meek endurance of oppression 
or outrage may seem offensive to my taste till I consider the 
whole purpose of the endurance, then it appears beautiful — per- 
haps sublime. 



TASTE 37 

It may be taken as a universal law that, in normal condi- 
tions whatever is demanded by our moral sense is admired by 
our aesthetic sense; what cultivated taste admires, enlightened 
conscience approves. 

42. This correspondence is further manifested in the parallel 
distinctions which we recognize in moral quality as the heroic 
and the amiable, and in aesthetic quality as the sublime and the 
beautiful. Some great deed that was performed by strenuous 
effort and costly sacrifice, our moral sense approves of as heroic, 
and our taste admires as sublime; while some other action, 
manifesting the gentle graces of sympathy or kindly affection, 
we call amiable in its moral quality and beautiful in its aesthetic. 

43. The influence of taste on conduct is of very wide range, 
not only attracting us to deeds of heroism by its appreciation 
of their sublimity, and to the amiable graces of the ordinary 
virtues, but extending its guiding impulses to the imaginations 
and emotional states of our mind. 

The seemliness of conduct, or the decorus quality of a 
thought, the dignity of a purpose or a mental attitude are 
among the most influential springs of conduct. 

The moral value of the training of the mind which we call 
culture is chiefly in its influence on taste, whereby we are 
enabled more justly to appreciate the beauty of good conduct 
and the aesthetic value of right states of mind. 

44. One of the interesting manifestations of this relation be- 
tween taste and morals is in the sense of the ludicrous. The 
incongruity of conduct, the dread of seeming undignified or 
ridiculous is one of the powerful influences acting on a culti- 
vated mind. It is all the more powerful because it acts with 
greatest force on minds that are highly inventive and spontane- 
ous. A keen sense of the ludicrous, a fine sense of proportion, 
of fitness or congruity, is a powerful corrective of conduct, 
and the dread of "making an ass of one's self" often holds us 
back from deeds and words and purposes which our moral 



38 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

sense and judgment would not prevent. 

It should be observed that what we call the sense of the 
ludicrous is a function of taste. It is the power of perceiving 
proper relations, proportion and harmony, and it is a very relia- 
ble index of the refinement of the soul. It is of course not the 
amount of this sense but the quality of it that is indicative. A 
man may laugh much and have a very crude sense of the 
ludicrous. But tell me what a man laughs at, and I will make 
a close guess as to his culture and refinement, and predict with 
considerable confidence the conduct he will prefer. 

45. The question of the standard of taste presents the same 
difficulties as are encountered in the attempt to define the 
standard of moral excellence; indeed there seems to be less 
uniformity in taste than in the sense of moral obligation. The 
same object may arouse admiration in one mind and only 
disgust in another. This is so obvious that we are often told 
that taste is purely subjective, and no rule can be framed by 
which it may be judged. "De gustibus non disputandum" is 
often quoted as a # settled principle of aesthetics. If one likes 
the taste of castor oil and dislikes strawberries, we may call 
his taste unusual but have to accept it as a fact. If one pre- 
fers the glaring conflict of barbaric colors, or the discordant 
clash of drums and horns to the harmonious concord of sweet 
sounds or the refined elegance of softly congruous tones of color, 
we say his taste is crude, uncultivated, barbarous; and if one 
sees no beauty in the gentle graces, such as sympathy, nor dig- 
nity in such as honor, courage, and integrity, we regard such 
a one as abnormal, or even depraved. 

46. The fact that we cannot frame 9uch positive definitions 
for beauty as we may for mathematical relations or the action 
of physical forces, does not prove that taste is lawless or 
erratic, but only that we have not yet fully mastered its prin- 
ciples The incompleteness of our knowledge of aesthetic prin- 
ciples does not diminish our confidence in such principles as we 



TASTE 39 

have grounds to accept. I assert that a rose is beautiful with 
the same confidence that I have in saying it is red, and my con- 
fidence is not shaken by the fact that there are those who do not 
distinguish its color or feel its beauty. So we admire an act 
of unselfish heroism with the same assurance of taste as when 
we pronounce peaches good to eat; and express disgust at some 
act of baseness with the same spontaneous impulse as when we 
condemn bilge-water as unfit to drink. 

47. As a guide to conduct we do constantly use our taste, 
just as spontaneously, and with the same kind of confidence 
that we have in the use of our physical senses. And our confi- 
dence is grounded on the same basis in the one case as in the 
other — that is the constitution of the mind; we trust the tes- 
timony of our physical senses because, on the whole, they do not 
deceive us, though they are not infallible, and we trust our 
taste because, for the most part, we have found it reliable. 

48. The difference between good taste and bad, — the superior- 
ity of what we call refined or cultivated taste, or the distinction 
that we make between lower and higher kinds of pleasures, is 
very hard to justify by reasons that have any force to minds that 
do not already feel the difference; and yet we do not hesitate 
to pronounce positive judgment in reference to such matters. We 
have no doubt but that the Greek column is more artistic, — in 
better taste, than the rough timber that supports the barn; or 
that the intricate harmonies of Beethoven's symphonies are nobler, 
better, higher than the noisy drumming of a child on his toy 
drum. We even distinguish the different pleasures of the senses 
a? higher and lower; we despise the man who has inordinate 
appetite for food, we call him glutton or pig: yet we respect the 
man who shows the same extreme pleasure in music. Why 
should the sense of sound be more honorable than the sense of 
physical taste? It would certainly be hard to justify these pref- 
erences. In fact, they are properly not judgments, but instincts 
and perceptions. They are feelings and ideas which are the 



40 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

direct effect of the reaction of our mind to external environment, 
and they are not rational, but constitutional, not the product of 
reason, but of experience. And all such comparisons are the 
spontaneous acts of perception. We say this act is nobler than 
that, this pleasure is of a higher quality than that just as we say 
this star is brighter than that or this apple is sweeter than the 
other. 

49. Moreover it is worth noticing that the sense of taste is, 
after all, much more uniform than it seems at first sight to be. 
The apparent differences in the decisions given on cases by differ- 
ent minds are often due to the fact that the cases really presented 
to the mind are different. All such cases are complex, often 
extremely so, and are further complicated by the associations, 
thoughts of consequences and suggestions that give almost infi- 
nite diversity to the problem really considered, so that no two 
persons have exactly the same question to answer. Even so 
simple a matter as the style of a hat or the taste of a fruit may 
be judged on grounds of association or prejudice that are entirely 
extraneous to the object. You may tell me you think blue eyes 
are more beautiful than black, and you are quite sincere; but if 
I know that your sweetheart has blue eyes, I may reasonably 
suspect that your judgment was biased by that fact. I dislike 
quince jelly because some forty years ago my mother used it 
unsuccessfully to disguise the taste of castor oil, and to this day 
my imagination presents the taste of the oil with the taste of the 
jelly, which in reality is no doubt perfectly innocent of any such 
taste. So I admire the conduct of my friend, while if my enemy 
did the same thing I should probably see no beauty in it. 

Such facts do not go to prove that there is no law of taste — 
no objective basis for our aesthetic preferences, but only that the 
objects on which our taste is exercised are so diversified and com- 
plex that the object actually judged in one case may be entirely 
different from the object judged in another, though their names 
and some of their aspects are the same. 



TASTE 41 

50. In what then does the cultivation of taste consist? Its 
purpose is clearly to improve our power to appreciate the beauty 
of objects or actions. But if we can not define the rules of 
beauty how are we to know that we are improving? Does the 
cultivation of taste really change our sense of beauty, or does it 
rather enlarge and clarify our view, and enable us to set before 
the mind more fully and fairly the matter to be judged? 

If it is the latter — as I believe it is — it might perhaps be more 
accurately termed the enlightenment of taste. It is certainly the 
chief purpose, if not the essential one, to be aimed at in the cul- 
tivation of taste to acquire the ability and the habit of looking 
steadily and comprehensively at the object as a whole. To purge 
the mind of prejudice, to eliminate the non-essentials, to correct 
the bias of associations and so to exercise the function of taste 
soberly and advisedly is a very important duty in the culture of 
conduct. 

When we subordinate good taste to the passing whims of 
fashion, and define "good form" by a conventional code, and 
stand in awe of the direful tongue of "Mrs. Grundy," we sac- 
rifice our freedom and put conduct under the direction of a 
blind and foolish guide. 



CHAPTER IV 



HABIT 



51. Much of our conduct is due to habit, and the law of habit 
applies to both mind and body. We not only do many things 
merely because we are accustomed to do them, but our percep- 
tion and judgment are greatly influenced by the same cause. 

The way we have acted, either in mind or body, becomes 
somehow a line of least resistance, and it requires a positive 
effort of will to act in an unaccustomed way. 

52. Habits when fully formed are much like instincts; and 
they are really more closely related to instinct than to intelli- 
gence, inasmuch as they are directed to things rather than rela- 
tions, to acts rather than ideas. 

Habits, like instincts, seem to impel us to certain activities 
without conscious intention, and often contrary to our judg- 
ment. 

53. The greater part of our bodily actions are directed by 
habit and are only initiated by the will. Our manner of walking 
or speaking, for example, are shaped by habit, and conscious 
intelligence seems needed only to give the general order and 
direction, leaving the marvelously intricate action of nerves and 
muscles to be guided by habit. Habit contributes no new 
power or faculty. Its office is only to direct, to steer, not to 
propel; but this directing function is just what is needed to 
give effectiveness to our powers. 

54. Habit may be defined as an acquired state of mind or body 
which influences the direction of our activities without conscious 
exercise of intelligence or will. 

The unskilled player on an instrument of music may direct 
his fingers by conscious intelligent effort of the will, but the 

42 



HABIT 43 

result is tedious, awkward and constrained. The skilled per- 
former is quite unconscious of the direction given to his fingers, 
but by habit guides them swiftly and easily through the most 
involved and complex movements, conscious only of the gen- 
eral purpose to produce certain sounds. It is practice that gives 
the dexterity, skill, quickness and sureness of action; but prac- 
tice is only the forming of habit — the cultivation of such con- 
ditions of body as render these movements the line of least 
resistance. 

55. Habits are as persistent as the states of body or mind to 
which they are due. To be out of practice is to have lost some- 
thing of the condition of mind or body which gives the proper 
direction to the activities. It is not uncommon to find habit 
more enduring than memory. We often find that we can do 
something that we cannot remember how to do. For exam- 
ple, we find it very difficult to tell how to tie a knot in our 
necktie, but have no trouble in doing it. We perhaps never 
notice which side of our coat has buttons, but we never reach 
for them on the wrong side. You may find it hard to tell your 
pupils how to hold a pen, but habit directs your own fingers 
without hesitation. All manual skill consists in good habits 
of the hands; the first class mechanic, the skilled musician or 
excellent ball player are those who have the right habits, that 
is the state of body in which the proper movements are provided 
with lines of least resistance. 

56. But the influence of habit is even more remarkable in ref- 
erence to mental than to bodily activities. The mind is more 
versatile in its functions. It is capable of greater development 
and hence more responsive to the directing influence of habit. 

The art of reading is a striking example of the force of habit ; 
we associate certain characters with certain sounds, and these 
sounds with certain ideas; reading is the double interpretation 
of these characters, first, into the sounds, and then into the 
ideas. We do this at first by conscious and somewhat painful 



44 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

labor of the memory and judgment, but soon the process is per- 
formed almost unconsciously, and the printed word and the 
idea are perceived simultaneously. 

57. But actions which require volition furnish still more re- 
markable examples of the force of habit. The power to con- 
centrate the mind on a chosen subject is perhaps the most im- 
portant of all the characteristics of a student. It is possible at 
first only by a strong effort of the will; but it is possible to 
form a habit of attention so strong that we can keep our mind 
on a proper object almost without a conscious effort of volition. 
That is, we can develop such a state of mind as will tend to 
direct our faculties to the subject set before it and hold them 
there with but slight effort of the will. 

58. But it is in the field of morals that the force of habit is of 
greatest importance, and here also it has its widest scope of influ- 
ence. 

So large a part of our moral conduct is impulsive rather than 
rational that habit is peculiarly congenial to the moral faculties. 

Moreover, moral distinctions are much finer, more delicate 
and less obvious than physical or even intellectual distinctions. 
The action of the will is therefore less prompt and positive than 
in other fields. The evil consequences of conduct are generally 
more remote. The rewards of goodness are less obvious, and the 
common judgment more likely to be biased by passion, prejudice 
or self interest, so that we are more inclined to act against our 
judgment — irrationally — because our will is weak, and the 
opposing motives strong. By such acts habits are formed, and 
the same condition which led to their formation give them an 
easy field in which to wield their influence. 

59. The evil effects of a bad physical habit manifest themselves 
promptly and generally to the discomfort of him who has the 
habit, and he is painfully conscious of his ill condition. This, of 
course, is a strong incentive to break off the habit by force of 
will ; and it is a terrible illustration of the force of habit that we 



HABIT 45 

find men, everywhere, whose habits of intemperance or lust are 
destroying them, and who know and lament the dreadful conse- 
quences of their deeds, are yet unable to break the bonds of habit. 

60. But the consequences of bad moral habits are not so obvi- 
ous. The soul that is deepest sunk in vice is generally least 
aware of its own pitiful degradation. 

It is an essential characteristic of bad moral habits that they 
dull the moral sense and corrupt the judgment; thus they stupefy 
the sentinel who should give the alarm and destroy the court, 
which should arrest the evil by inflicting remorse; and nothing 
remains to correct the habit but the moral instinct, and it, as we 
have already noted, becomes enfeebled by repeated disobedience 
to its behests. 

61. Fortunately good habits have equal power of persistence. 
They are reinforced by the moral sense and judgment and, for 
the most part, by the common sense of mankind. 

62. While habits cannot be regarded as powers of the soul, they 
are evidently the chief means by which our powers are directed, 
and therefore chief factors in the actual conduct of life. 

63. It is not clear that habits are directly hereditary; for the 
most part they certainly are not. The habit of attention, or of 
punctuality, or industry is not transmitted from father to child ; 
but habits may produce effects that are transmitted, and tend to 
produce like habits in the child. The habit of intemperance or 
gluttony may produce an unhealthy state of body, which, inher- 
ited by the child, will predispose him to the same habits, by mak- 
ing him peculiarly susceptible to temptation on the same points. 
The mental and moral habits are not so easily observed, but 
there is every reason to regard them as transmissible in the same 
way. Much of what we call family traits are doubtless due to 
association and environment, but much also is due to such inheri- 
tance of the habits of our ancestors. 

64. Indeed, some go so far as to account for all instincts as 
the inheritance of the habits formed and transmitted through 



46 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

many generations; and, while this is hardly to be accepted, it is 
probably true that instincts are greatly modified by heredity 
carrying over from generation to generation the acquired habits 
of parents. The domestication of animals seems to furnish con- 
clusive proof of this, as, for example, the native proclivities of 
different breeds of dogs. 

65. We shall have to consider later the special duty of forming 
correct habits; but for the present we are concerned only to 
point out the important fact that, next to moral instinct, habit is 
the most important factor in conduct. 

Instinct is the native impulse to certain courses of conduct, 
which lead to certain definite ends, but which are pursued with- 
out conscious reference to those ends. Habit is an acquired ten- 
dency of very similar character, and in mature minds it is prob- 
ably of even greater influence in shaping our conduct. 



CHAPTER V 



CUSTOM 



66. The tendency to imitate the behavior of those about us, 
especially of those whom we most admire and respect, is one of 
the strongest human instincts. 

It is manifested very early and is persistent throughout life. 

As an instinct, it is involuntary and to a good degree uncon- 
scious, but it is very early supplemented by intelligence, and 
made more definite by the voluntary conformity of our conduct, 
to that of our associates. 

This conformity is called custom, and is one of the most 
potent factors of conduct. 

67. Much of this conformity is a matter of convenience only, 
and has very little, if any, moral quality. But many customs 
that arise from mere convenience become distinctly moral either 
through changes of circumstances, or by complications which 
give them weight in the scale of judgment. 

The conventionalities of social life in matters of dress or man- 
ners are usually without moral significance when they arise, but 
often come to have a decided influence for good or evil by their 
associations. 

The Quaker's custom of wearing his hat in the presence of 
those whose dignity was recognized by the older custom of 
uncovering in their presence came to have — was intended to have 
district moral significance. 

The custom of consecrating meats to some god raised a ques- 
tion of morals in the early church which St. Paul was obliged 
to notice, and his judgment was that in itself the eating of meat 
so consecrated was morally indifferent, but might raise a moral 
question if the act was intended as an act of worship, or if it 

47 



48 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

troubled the conscience of some one else. 

Customs no matter how they arise, or however indifferent they 
may be themselves, have a tendency to become absolute, and to 
be regarded as authoritative and even sacred. They are also 
reenforced by habit, and by the instinctive desire for the approval 
of our fellows. 

68. In all stages of moral development the influence of custom 
is a potent factor of conduct. 

In the less reflective stages of civilization it often constitutes 
the chief standard of morality ; and any departure from the estab- 
lished usage is regarded with disfavor and considered a moral 
offense, a thing not to be done, nor permitted. 

In the more reflective stages of development the influence of 
custom is probably quite as powerful, but it comes into competi- 
tion with a greater number of other influences which modify its 
effect. 

The sanctions by which customs are enforced differ in different 
stages of civilization. In primitive states of society, where cus- 
tom is practically the only standard of right, any considerable 
breach of custom is a crime, and the offender is punished without 
much consideration of the moral principles involved. 

In more advanced stages of social development the penalties 
for such offenses are more distinctly social. 

The savage who marries contrary to the customs of his tribe 
may be banished or killed. The European who marries out of 
his own social rank is "cut" by his former friends, or if the 
offense is a gross breach of custom — as the marriage of a Negress, 
he becomes a social outcast. 

69. The conventionalities of social life are customs that regu- 
late a large portion of our behavior. Their influence is most 
vividly shown in the deterioration of character which usually 
takes place where the restraints of custom are removed. While 
many of our social customs are morally indifferent, and some of 
them positively bad, yet, on the whole, they are based on some 



CUSTOM 49 

permanent and reasonable ground, and are powerful for good. 
They are not to be lightly disregarded or defied, but to be cher- 
ished, and reformed and purified as occasion may require. 



CHAPTER VI 



IMAGINATION 



70. The Imagination is the architect of the soul. Its office 
is to draw the plans and specifications of conduct. It defines our 
desires and sets them vividly before consciousness. It frames 
purposes to be accomplished and devises means for their attain- 
ment. It presents these purposes in attractive colors, and thus 
promotes their adoption. 

71. The influence of imagination, and the part it plays as a 
factor of conduct, has not been sufficiently considered. 

Its power to direct attention gives it a place at the very source 
of conduct; its ability to represent evil in its least offensive 
aspect, and to turn the mind to such points of view as may be 
most favorable to our desires; and its influence in the formation 
of taste and habit, all these combine to make imagination one of 
the most powerful factors in conduct. 

72. Every act we perform is first presented to consciousness by 
the imagination. All that comes to pass through our voluntary 
effort was already existent as an idea, a picture or image in our 
mind. For some purposes this picture of the thing to be done is 
as effective as the overt act. The direction of the attention is 
accomplished chiefly by the presentation of such pictures. The 
more vivid the presentment the more powerfully attention is 
drawn to it, and the effect of such attention is to move the will 
to realize the idea thus presented. 

73. The relation between attention and volition is so close that, 
in cases where the considerations for and against an action are 
nearly balanced, the side to which attention is chiefly directed is 
pretty sure to be the winning side. As Dr. James says, "The 
whole drama of the voluntary life hinges on the amount of atten- 

50 



IMAGINATION 51 

tion, slightly more or slightly less, which rival motor ideas may 
receive.' ' 

If we may go so far to say that "all ideas are motor — "that is 
to say, every idea formed in consciousness has an immediate effect 
on the will and "bodily action follows directly on the perception 
of the exciting fact" we must then attribute to imagination the 
dominant position among the factors of conduct. 

74. However this may be, we are not dependent on any theory 
of psychology for our conviction that the course of our conduct 
is determined largely by our imagination. We do not, for the 
most part, perceive the sensible object of our desire, but the 
image of it, — the idea, and this as it is presented by the imagin- 
ation. Whatever attractive or impulsive power the idea may 
have will depend on the image presented to consciousness, and 
this image is formed by the mind already biased by its desires. 
The dishonest man does not allow his imagination to present his 
contemplated crime in all its true colors, but rather frames up 
some picture of his necessities, the prevalence of dishonesty, the 
circumstances of his case, and everything that can mitigate the 
protest of his moral instinct; and thus he wins over the consent 
of his will. 

It is even held by some that no man ever commits a crime 
without first persuading himself that he is justified in doing so. 
This is probably more than we can say, but it is certainly true 
that this process of presenting the deeds we wish to do in the 
most favorable light our imagination can provide is the custo- 
mary way of gaining consent of our will against the protest of 
our moral sense and judgment. 

Lady MacBeth voiced a common experience when she cried, 
"These things must not be thought of after these ways. So, they 
will make us mad." 

75. But the influence of the imagination on conduct is not 
confined to these efforts of the mind to gratify its desires 
against the protest of our "better self." The influence is con- 



52 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

stant and fundamental. We live in a world of imagination ; we 
"dwell upon" the presentments of our own mind till they seem 
more real than reality, and we become bewildered and confused. 
Our perception becomes obscure and we see only what we 
look for — we perceive only what we have already in mind. 

"To the pure all things are pure," and to the corrupt soul 
all men are rascals. The sudden fall of men esteemed to be 
of strict integrity is often due to the fact that, while their out- 
ward life was upright, their inner life was false and the imag- 
inations of their heart corrupt. The crimes of youth are often 
traced to the false ideals formed by the influence of bad books 
on their imagination. The drunkard and the libertine find it 
easier to correct their conduct than to control their thoughts. 

Indecent pictures and the scenes of crime are forbidden 
by law, because they excite the mind to evil; but the secret 
chambers of the soul may be full of all uncleanness ready to 
break out in open villainy on suitable occasion, and nothing 
but the soul itself can cleanse it. 

The author of the book of Genesis in his description of the 
utter vileness of the human race before the flood asserts that 
"every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil 
continually;" a terrible indictment in which every word is 
emphatic, and in which the source of his corruption is pointed 
out as the imagination. 

76. Happily the imagination is as powerful for good as it is 
for evil. Many a hero never has occasion to sacrifice himself 
and so to demonstrate his heroism, but in his own soul lives a 
noble life — a life of latent heroism in the noble company of 
high imaginings. 

77. But perhaps the most potent means by which imagination 
acts on conduct is in the formation of habits. 

We have already considered the effect of habit upon our 
life. It is ever a fruitful theme for moralists and for psychol- 
ogists, — see for example Dr. James* great chapter X in his 



IMAGINATION 53 

Psychology. But we must not forget that while habit has a 
physical basis, and is defined as a ' 'pathway of discharge formed 
in the brain by which certain incoming currents ever after tend 
to escape," it is none the less a mental state, and is formed 
by acts of the mind as well as by bodily action. Ideas of action 
may be inhibited and lead to no bodily act and yet form habits 
quite as strong as those formed by overt acts. Honesty for 
example is a habit of mind, formed, for the most part, by the 
imagination — by thinking honesty. So with all habits, while 
they may be intensified by bodily actions, they are chiefly states 
of mind produced by mental acts — by feelings and imaginations 
oft repeated till that way of thinking — of looking at things 
and feeling with regard to them becomes a "line of least re^ 
sistance" — the easiest and most spontaneous way. 
78. Since the imagination is so potent a factor in conduct it 
seems important to consider its relation to the other faculties 
or functions of the soul, especially its relation to the will. 

We have seen that it is often a powerful influence in voli- 
tion, but. on the other hand, it also is subject to the will. Or 
perhaps we shall conceive the matter more correctly by regard- 
ing the will and the imagination not as different "faculties" or 
powers of the soul, but rather as two activities of the same 
undivided self, or soul, and this self, or soul, self-directing and 
self-controlled. We have no more right to misuse our imag- 
ination than we have to misuse hand or foot or tongue. To 
corrupt our minds by false images is a kind of self-mutilation, 
and to form habits of wrong thinking by making false pictures 
of truth is just as destructive of character as to form bad hab- 
its by evid deeds. 

It is indeed more important to cultivate right habits of 
thought — right and true habits of looking at things, than to 
cultivate right habits of action, for the imagination is more 
fundamental than the actions of the body, — more closely re- 
lated to the source of conduct. Outward actions may be re- 



54 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

strained from motives of prudence, or fear, while the inner self 
may be guilty of the offense. 

The really truthful man is he who "speaketh the truth in his 
heart" and on the other hand he that hateth his brother is a 
murderer who dares not kill. 

79. We have called imagination the architect of the soul, for 
it sets before consciousness the plans which may be executed, 
but we must remember that conduct is not the building of life 
according to plans proposed and accepted as a whole, or at one 
time* Life is not static, but dynamic. The task of the imagin- 
ation, therefore, is not one that may be finished, and the plans 
handed over to the will to be executed. The work is contin- 
uous, changing, enlarging, modifying continually to meet the 
ever new conditions. All that is possible in most cases is an 
outline, a sketch, a vague ideal to be approximated and elabor- 
ated as time and opportunity permit. It is therefore most impor- 
tant that we keep our imagination in good condition, that we 
may see truth clear and whole, that we may not be self deceived 
by prejudice or bigotry, — which are both due to false imagina- 
tion, — and that we may be able to get all points of view, and so 
to understand our fellow men who differ with us in opinion. 
Very much of the strife and friction of social life is due to the 
lack of well trained imagination. The proverb, "To know all 
would be to forgive all," is an exaggeration, for there is some 
real baseness that is not mere stupidity nor ignorance; but it is 
true that the trained faculty of putting oneself in the other's 
place, of getting his point of view, of imagining the case as it looks 
to him, would aid immensely in the understanding of our fellow 
men and clear the path of duty of much of its fog and darkness. 

80. The imagination may be trained, as any other faculty is 
trained, by exercise according to its laws. It is not such a law- 
less and erratic faculty as we often suppose, and there is no more 
excuse for false imagination than there is for false reasoning; 
no more reason for refusing to imagine what we do not like than 



IMAGINATION 55 

there is for refusing to speak truth that is disagreeable. It is one of 
the first factors of conduct, and no clear or comprehensive under- 
standing of ethics can be had if it is ignored or left out of 
account. 

Practically it is the foundation of that most noble of graces, 
magnanimity, it is the mother of sympathy, and the destroyer 
of bigotry and fanaticism. 



CHAPTER VII 

CONSCIENCE 

81. Thus far, we have avoided using the term conscience be- 
cause, as it is familiarly used, it is ambiguous and inexact in 
meaning. Sometimes it means the impulse that urges us to right 
conduct; as when we say one is honest, not from compulsion, 
but for conscience sake, or when we say one is restrained from 
an evil deed by his conscience. In such usage its meaning is 
nearly equivalent to moral sense or the instinct of righteousness. 
62. It may be used to denote the ability of the soul to perceive 
moral distinctions; as when we speak of one having a sensitive 
conscience, or a conscience seared as with a hot iron. In such 
cases it means perception of moral quality. 

Again it is often used to denote the action of the mind in 
passing judgment and inflicting penalties or giving rewards ; as 
when we say my conscience approves or disapproves. We con- 
clude therefore that the term conscience may mean either the 
moral instinct, or perception or judgment and the power to exe- 
cute judgment in the form of remorse or peace of mind. 

Psychologically there are three distinct functions of the mind ; 
each of them exercised in reference to moral qualities exactly as 
they are exercised toward any other qualities. 
81. There is no good reason for assuming a special "moral fac- 
ulty" to account for the mind's action on moral questions. The 
mind that perceives the moral quality perceives sensible qualities 
by exactly the same process; and the mind that judges the moral 
character of a man is the same mind that judges his physical con- 
dition, and both judgments are performed in the same way. 

It is quite true that conscience is a "divine spark," "A God 
ruling within us" as Cicero calls it, or a "demon which tells 

56 



CONSCIENCE 57 

us what to do" — as Socrates describes it; but this is poetry, and 
true only in a poetical, not in a scientific sense. 

83. Bearing in mind, then, that conscience is only a convenient 
term used to denote three distinct and different functions of the 
mind, we may consider some of the more important phenomena 
of morals that are popularly attributed to conscience. 

First : as an instinct. We have already noticed the fact, uni- 
versally admitted, that a feeling that certain things ought to be 
done, and certain other things ought not to be done is constitu- 
tional in human nature. We are impelled to certain conduct as 
somehow obligatory upon us; though we may be utterly unable 
to account for the impulse on rational grounds. We believe 
such conduct to be reasonable, but we feel the obligation and the 
impulse quite independent of our rational judgment. This we 
have called the instinct of righteousness. 

84. We shall be best able to conceive of conscience as an in- 
stinct by considering the general characteristics of instinct, which 
are applicable to this particular field. 

First, conscience may be cultivated as any other instinct is 
cultivated. It may be made more sensitive so that the impulse 
to right conduct is more keenly felt, and the impetus to action is 
more powerful. The impulse to benevolent action is natural 
in all normal souls, but it is much stronger in some than in 
others. This difference is, no doubt, due in part to the na- 
tive temperaments of different souls ; but it is also due in large 
measure to the training and culture it has received, either by 
conscious, voluntary effort to that end, or by the unconscious 
influence of environment, or the unintentional effect of our 
conduct reacting on our soul. As the instinctive tendency to 
find pleasure in the concourse of sweet sounds grows stronger 
and more discriminating by persistent practice, so is it with the 
native tendency to find pleasure in such conduct as we call 
good. 

The ear for music, the taste for the fit and proper in art 



58 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

and life are all analogous with the appreciation of moral excel- 
lence as an object to be attained. 

This instinct is not merely the ability to perceive the moral 
quality, but a response of the whole soul to the attractive 
power of the quality so perceived. 

On the other hand it may be weakened by disuse, or misuse, 
so that it becomes enfeebled and gives but little impetus to- 
ward the actions perceived to be right. 

Second, conscience may be enlightened, so that its percep- 
tion is clearer and its judgment more reliable. 

Perception is always an interpretation; the more perfectly 
we apprehend all the features of a state of consciousness the 
more clearly we perceive the moral quality. Whatever aids 
in bringing the case in all its fullness to our consciousness aids 
perception. One man may see nothing wrong in a certain 
course of conduct, because he has not considered the facts and 
implications involved in it, while another more intelligent, more 
thoughtful, more enlightened, sees distinctly that it is not right. 

This dependence of moral perception on the point of view 
and the breadth of thought accounts for much of the conflict- 
ing perception and judgment in regard to what is right. Hu- 
man slavery seems right or wrong according to the features to 
which we direct our thought; so that quite recently good men- 
perceived no necessary evil in it; while other men, no better 
than they, regarded it with horror and condemned it absolutely. 

So true it is that our moral perception and judgment are 
dependent largely on our point of view, that we do, both 
consciously and unconsciously, turn our attention to those fea- 
tures of a case as will most readily give us the conclusion that 
we want to reach, and shut out the view that is unpleasant 
to us. 

And in like manner we shift the scene to such position as 
shall give us the perception we desire, 



CONSCIENCE 59 

"Compounding sins we are inclined to 
By damning those we have no mind to." 

Instead of striving to enlighten conscience we deliberately 
darken it, lest its clear perception of the baseness of our con- 
duct put us to shame; or we consent to the "god of this world 
blinding our eyes" by the glitter of those things which appeal 
to passion, appetite or selfish ambition. 

85. This enlightening or darkening of conscience is a figure 
of speech which applies with still more aptness to that func- 
tion of the mind which we call moral judgment, for judgment 
depends not only on clear perception of moral quality, but on 
the relation of these qualities in any action or course of conduct. 

All action is conditioned; its moral quality depends on 
these conditions. Sound moral judgment is therefore impos- 
sible without a comprehensive knowledge of the conditions, — 
our intelligent apprehension of the facts, consequences and com- 
plications of the act. Such knowledge is enlightenment, and is 
acquired as any other knowledge is acquired, namely by in- 
stinct, by observation, and by reason. And judgment must be 
formed upon the facts and conditions unbiased by feelings. 
This does not mean that feelings have no place in the case to be 
judged; for the moral impulse is a very important factor in 
every case, but it is the very office of judgment to decide as to 
the due and proper claim of feeling. The feeling, — or affec- 
tions as we prefer to call them, are the plaintiffs in cases sub- 
mitted to conscience for adjudication, and the judicial function 
is exercised in allowing or forbidding the impulses of the af- 
fections to be carried out in action. In other words the affec- 
tions are the motive powers of the soul and the moral judg- 
ment is to control, suppress or modify these motive impulses, 
according to the laws of our moral nature. Prejudice is deci- 
sion according to feeling without the warrant of judgment ac- 
cording to the facts and the law. It may sometimes impel 
to the right action, but it is always unsafe, unwise and irrational 



60 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

to guide our lives according to the impulses of feelings that 
have not been submitted to the judgment of reason, and pro- 
nounced right by the standard of moral law. 

By an enlightened conscience therefore we mean a mind intel- 
ligent, informed, unblinded by passion, unbiased by prejudice 
and capable of judging the claims of the affections according to 
the law of our moral nature. 

86. But conscience may not only be darkened, but it may be 
corrupted; so that it not only fails to direct us aright, but 
actually misleads, and dictates conduct that is wrong. To state 
this condition of the mind more fully we may say : The moral 
sense, or instinct, may become so disordered that it puts evil 
for good and good for evil. Such a state is perhaps) rarely reached 
in human experience. Certainly the soul has to be depraved to 
the lowest depths before it craves evil for its own sake ; yet it 
is not at all unusual to find the mind so thoroughly under the 
influence of evil habits, passions and malevolent affections that 
the impulses of these evil powers are not distinguished from 
the voice of conscience; like a diseased appetite it craves the 
very thing it should abhor. The state which we call a cor- 
rupted conscience is however much more accurately a disor- 
dered state of the faculty of judgment. When the mind is 
blinded by false perception, biased by prejudice and perverted 
by evil habit it becomes incapable of fair judgment and posi- 
tively inclined to dictate evil rather than good. Like the false 
balance, it is incapable of justice, and is set to indicate the 
wrong. 

So far from being an infallible guide, conscience is especially 
liable to err; because it involves the instincts, the perceptions 
and the judgments, and a defect in either of the functions viti- 
ates the action as a whole. 

87. It is not surprising that the dictates of conscience are not 
uniform in all men ; but marvelous that they so largely agree 
in all essential matters. This substantial agreement is strik- 



CONSCIENCE 61 

ing evidence of the strength and uniformity of the constitu- 
tional impulse toward righteousness, and the clear perception 
of right which is given to each human soul — a native appetency 
for the good and antipathy for evil. 

88. The most distinctive feature of the mental processes which 
w r e call conscience is the emotional states produced by our 
judgments on moral cases 

Condemnation of our own conduct is accompanied by the 
peculiar and most painful emotion, called shame, or remorse. 

Approval of our conduct gives us a pleasing state of mind, 
called peace of conscience. 

These emotions are considered more fully elsewhere, but we 
observe here that they are an important part of the functions 
included in the ordinary use of the term conscience, and because 
these emotional states are persistent, and, because they are ex- 
tremely painful or pleasant, they are the most obvious of all func- 
tions ascribed to conscience. Poets and novelists find in this a 
perennial source of themes, prophets and moralists appeal to it as 
the sanction of their warnings and exhortations. 

The sense of guilt, the apprehension of remorse holds back 
from evil. The suffering of remorse urges us to repentance and 
reformation of our conduct. 

"My conscience hath a thousand several tongues and every 
tongue brings a several tale, and every tale condemns me for a 
villain." We check the impulse of passion and the urgency of 
desire for fear of consequent self condemnation when all other 
consequences would be disregarded or defied. 

"Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all." 

On the other hand good conduct finds its sure reward — what- 
ever else may fail — in the approval of our soul. 

"A peace above all earthly dignities, 
A still and quiet conscience." 

89. Taking conscience then to mean the perception of right and 



62 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

duty, the impulse to do the right, and the emotional effects which 
follow moral judgment, it may well be called the supreme 
authority of the soul and its dictates "Categorical imperatives" ; 
and we may accept the statement "If it had strength as it has 
right, had power as it has manifest authority it would absolutely 
govern the world." 



CHAPTER VIII 



MORAL PERCEPTION 



90. The sense of moral obligation prompts to actions which 
lead to certain definite ends, but it does not spring from con- 
scious recognition of those ends, nor from foresight of their 
utility or worth. 

Thus far the feeling of moral obligation is an instinct and 
nothing more. It differs from other instincts in its quality 
and mode of operation only as the ends which it accomplishes 
are different, and the correlative faculties which it serves are 
dissimilar; but essentially it belongs to the same category as 
the impulse which leads the thrifty ant to lay up her meat in 
summer and impels the wild goose to seek the south in antici- 
pation of the coming winter. 

91. But man is a rational creature, and very early his reason 
begins to supplement, and gradually to supercede the blind 
impulses of his nature which we call instincts. He begins to 
question his states of consciousness, to inquire whence they 
come and what they mean. This inquiry into the source and 
meaning of our states of consciousness is the first step in all 
rational activity. It is called perception. 

Perception is the interpretation of consciousness. Sense per- 
ception is the interpretation of states of consciousness which 
are due to sensation. Moral perception is the interpretation 
of states due to the moral sense or the instinct of morality. 
The process is the same in all cases. 

We find by experience that in the presence of certain objects 
we have uniformly a certain state of consciousness. We infer 
that the state is produced by the object. I find for example 
that the presence of a certain object gives me a state of con- 

63 



64 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

scfousness by means of my sense of sight, touch and taste. I 
have learned to call the object which produces this particular 
state an orange. Somewhat later I learn to distinguish the 
different elements of this state, and to analyze it so as to 
attribute certain features of it to impressions made by the sense 
of sight, other features to the sense of smell or taste or touch. 
The whole group of impressions gives me the state of conscious- 
ness which I attribute to the presence of an object having the 
qualities which produce in consciousness the peculiar features 
which I find by analysis to be present in the state I experi- 
ence. I have no knowledge of the object except by inference 
from my state of consciousness. The qualities which I think 
of as belonging to the object are attributed to it by the mind 
attempting to interpret its own state. These qualities are 
therefore properly called attributes. The senses give us impres- 
sions produced by the various qualities of the object, and by 
a rational process we interpret these, and thus perceive the 
object, and by further rational process we perceive the various 
attributes of the object. 

92. The process of moral perception is just the same as that of 
sense perception. The only difference is in the source of 
the impressions made on consciousness. In the presence of a cer- 
tain course of conduct we experience a state of consciousness, due 
not to any of our senses but to a feeling which we have called the 
instinct of morality. For example, under the stress of some 
strong desire to escape trouble or disgrace we are tempted to lie, 
but the thought of lying produces a state of consciousness, with 
very marked features, due not to any sensation but to the instinct 
which urges us to truth and protests against falsehood. By inter- 
pretation of such states of consciousness we get the idea of truth. 
We perceive an action as wrong, and distinguish the qualities of 
conduct that produce the various features of the state of con- 
sciousness that we experience in view of the proposed action, 
just as we perceive the qualities of material objects by sense per- 



MORAL PERCEPTION 65 

ception. 

93. Logically, no doubt, perception of moral quality precedes 
the sense of obligation, and the obligation is grounded in the 
perceived quality of the action. But instincts are not logical; 
they are constitutional. They are earlier than reason ; they pre- 
cede perception, and introduce the qualities and relations about 
which we may then reason if we will. 

94. Right means, primarily, that which we feel obliged to do, 
and wrong means that which our moral instinct forbids. We 
may reach a high degree of moral excellence without much fur- 
ther insight into the nature of right and wrong than this. But if 
we are to inquire into the philosophy of conduct we must con- 
sider how intelligence lays hold of conduct and how rational 
direction takes the place of instinct. 

Perception is the first step in this process. This process of 
interpretation is an immediate inference. It is not a process of 
reasoning but a rational act of direct apprehension from data 
furnished by consciousness ; and the process is the same however 
this data may have been furnished. Sense perception is the inter- 
pretation of data furnished by the senses. Moral perception is 
the interpretation of data given by the moral sense. We may 
also speak of mathematical perception, which is the interpreta- 
tion of the intuitive sense of quantity and relations, or of aesthetic 
perception of beauty. We are concerned at present however, 
only to show that moral perception is the legitimate and rational 
process by which we arrive at ideas of right and wrong. 

95. Now, the moral instinct has to do with actions. It gives 
but one of two impressions to consciousness, either an impulse to 
perform some act or a sense of prohibition from it. Hence moral 
perception has but two categories to which all actions are 
assigned. Every act that has moral quality at all is either right 
or wrong. 

Actions may differ in degrees of rightness — or at least they 
may differ in degrees of wrongness. Right is more nearly abso- 



66 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

lute, — if an action is right it can hardly be more so, but one 
wrong act may be worse than another, i. e., further from right. 
This distinction is important in the consideration of merit and 
demerit, and in the governmental function of assigning rewards 
and punishments. 

96. Since moral perception is the interpretation of conscious- 
ness, and deals with data furnished by the moral sense, the 
results of such perception will differ as the data differ. Thus it 
is that the perceptions of right and wrong are not entirely uni- 
form in all men, nor indeed in the same man at all times. The 
different degrees of strength and delicacy of the moral sense 
give different impressions to consciousness, and hence the inter- 
pretations of them will be different. 

Moreover, actions are very rarely so simple as to give but a 
single impression to consciousness. They are commonly much 
complicated containing many and often dissimilar attributes, 
and our perception of their character as a whole will depend 
largely on the importance we attach to one or other feature of 
the case. Few actions are wholly wrong, fewer still are abso- 
lutely right in form and purpose. Yet we must in each case 
render the verdict right or wrong, and decide to do or not to do. 

In view of these obvious difficulties, the wonder is, not that 
men sometimes differ in moral perceptions, but rather that they 
so generally agree. 

We conclude that moral perceptions are not infallible — more 
liable to err indeed than the moral instinct, yet the perceptions 
of right and wrong are, on the whole, remarkable in their 
agreement in all ages and among all people. 

97. It will be noticed that perception always involves the 
mental process of comparison, which is usually called judg- 
ment. These two processes are not identical, but they are so 
intimately related that it seems best not to distinguish between 
them as factors of conduct. Judgment will be more fully con- 
sidered in the chapter on Motives* 



CHAPTER IX 



SELF-DIRECTION 



98. The factors of conduct thus far considered are all im- 
pulsive in their character. They are motive forces which im- 
pel us to action, usually arousing consciousness and causing 
sensation and emotions. They are capable of producing action 
without the help or direction of the will, but such cannot prop- 
erly be called conduct, for it is not conducted, directed or con- 
trolled by the rational self. 

Mere reaction of an organism, however, complex or won- 
derful, can never be anything but mechanical, cannot be called 
good or bad or possess moral quality. 

The mind's control of its own activities is the essential fea- 
ture of all intelligent being, and the exercise of such self-direc- 
tion is conduct. 

The familiar dictum of Kant, that "There is nothing in the 
world, or even out of it, that can be called good without qual- 
ification except good will" means simply that moral quality 
belongs not to impulses that beat upon the soul from without 
or from within, but solely to the consent of the soul itself to 
be moved by such impulses. 

99. This self-directing power of the soul — or self — is called 
volition or will. 

It is not to be conceived of as something independent of the 
other powers of the soul, but rather as the whole soul, or self 
exercising its function of control or government. 

Volition has no power to initiate or originate impulses to 
action, but only to choose and coordinate and unify the im- 
pulses that spring from instinct and other reactions, so that 
they may form a definite and efficient motive to action. 

67 



68 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

The process by which the will exercises this function of self- 
direction is not well understood. It is certainly a very compli- 
cated process, for the influences that act upon the mind are very 
many ; and the reaction of the mind depends upon its state ; and 
its condition at any given time depends, not only on its native 
disposition, but upon all its past experience and its present mood. 

The mind responds to its environment, that is, to all that acts 
on it from without ; but the force of environment depends on the 
mind itself. There is practically no such thing as an environ- 
ment except the environment of each soul at each particular 
moment, for things act on the mind as impulses only as the mind 
is susceptible to their influence; they become motives only in so 
far as they arouse some desire in the mind. 

ioo. The whole process of self-direction begins with appercep- 
tion, which is the assimilation of the various influences which 
appeal to consciousness. These influences are partly from with- 
out and partly from within. From without they come to us by 
sensation and perception: from within they arise from instinct, 
memory, fixed purposes and habits. These influences are not 
only numerous and varied, but are always more or less conflict- 
ing — impelling us to different actions. To arbitrate these con- 
flicting impulses, and reduce our activities to a definite and con- 
sistent scheme, requires first of all a proper adjustment of all the 
appeals to consciousness, that the idea may be definite, the issue 
distinct, and the action called for clearly set before us by the 
imagination. This may be taken as the definition of appercep- 
tion. 

101. But volition, or self -direction, is more than apperception; 
it involves a certain deliberation, or weighing, of one impulse 
against another, and the judgment of their relative importance ; 
for, as we have noticed, impulses have force and value only as 
they meet with response in the mind itself, and the power to 
respond or not is, to some degree, possessed by the mind. This 
response is made chiefly bf the attention given or with-held ; and 



SELF-DIRECTION 69 

attention is partly voluntary and partly instinctive. We can not 
entirely control the tendency of the mind to attend to the objects 
presented to consciousness by sensation or memory, but to some 
degree we can, and in so far as we control attention we control 
activity. The connection between the idea of an action and its 
performance is very close ; so close that a fully formed idea is in 
itself an intense motor impulse — a strong force impelling us to 
perform the action. 

102. But the function of volition includes not only the direc- 
tion of motive forces, but the power to inhibit action. This abil- 
ity to interpose its authority between the impulse and its reaction 
is perhaps the most distinctive feature of intelligence. It is that, 
more than anything else, that differentiates the rational from 
irrational activity, and gives rational activity the quality of con- 
duct. 

The mind seems to issue injunctions on the impulses that 
make for action, and thus hold them back, till the fitness of the 
action is considered in relation to all its consequences and impli- 
cations. 

Then, having judged the case, the mind gives the execu- 
tive oider, and the motor nerves carry the message to the 
physical organism; or it may be that the decision is condi- 
tional, and we await the proper time and conditions for its 
execution. 

103. The common phase, to make up our mind, is an ex- 
cellent expression of the process of self-direction; for it is 
really the ordering or making up of the numerous and varied 
motive forces which are present to consciousness. 

In this "making up," the mind chooses and gives precedence 
to this or that motive or impulse, inhibits or modifies others 
as it seems good to it. 

It should be remembered that conduct does not consist of a 
series of volitions. It is cumulative and continuous, every 
choice and every act modifies both the conditions of all sub- 



70 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

sequent choices and the character of the mind itself. 

The weight and impelling force of any state of consciousness 
depends first upon our native disposition and on the present 
mood, but by our own conduct we continually change the 
character of our minds, making them more susceptible to cer- 
tain influences and less moved by others. We form mental 
and bodily habits also, which become more and more influ- 
ential; and our fixed purposes become more definite and con- 
stant. These qualities become constitutional, and form what 
we call character; and character tends more and more to be- 
come fixed and permanent. 

104. The factors of conduct we have mentioned are perhaps 
the chief elements that enter into our conduct and determine 
our behavior, but they are by no means the only ones. They 
are examples rather than a catalog, and are presented rather 
to show how the mind is acted upon — and responds, rather 
than to fully account for all its behavior. 

The function which we have called self-direction, by which 
the mind acts as arbiter of its own conflicting impulses, chooses 
its course of action, forms its purposes and directs its energies 
to the accomplishment of those purposes, involves the pro- 
foundest questions of psychology. We cannot attempt the 
consideration of all of these, nor are they necessary to the 
understanding of ethics. 

It is necessary, however, to consider somewhat carefully the 
way in which considerations of right and wrong act on the 
mind and influence the will. 

The common term used to denote this aspect of our soul's 
activity is conscience. The phenomena presented the mind 
under the influence of moral distinctions are so important and 
so peculiar, that conscience is often considered as a special 
faculty. This is apt to be misleading, and we should try to 
have a clear understanding of the mental process in the mat- 
ter, rather than attempt to determine the meaning of the 



SELF-DIRECTION 71 

words. 

105. The function of the will is to conduct the activities of 
the soul, to regulate and direct the impulses that are the mo- 
tive forces of the soul and body. 

It is in this connection that we may best understand how 
the pursuit of virtue seems to be a constant conflict, — a pull- 
ing against the stream. 

It is such in the nature of the case, for when instincts, or 
natural reactions do not conflict, either with other instincts 
or with the judgments and purposes already formed, they are 
allowed free course, and require no direction by the will, and 
are hardly to be considered conduct. 

But when they conflict, the will acts as arbiter and inhibits 
some of the impulses to action and thus conducts our behavior. 

Hence it is that moral laws usually assume the form of 
prohibition. They have to do with restraints. Their office 
is chiefly to indicate what "thou shalt not" do. 

"All constraint 

Except what wisdom lays on evil men 
Is evil." 



BOOK II 

THE PRINCIPLES OF ETHICS 



CHAPTER I 

MOTIVES 

1 06. In judging ourselves or others in respect to conduct, we 
do not regard the overt act as the object of our judgment; we 
look behind the act and seek the motive, intention or pur- 
pose which led to it, and form our judgment on the act ac- 
cording to the purpose or motive which prompted it- 
It is evident that mere physical action has in itself little 

or no moral quality. I may fire a gun to scare the crows from 
my corn field, or I may fire it with malice afore-thought to 
kill a man. The physical action is the same, but the moral 
quality very different; because the purpose is different. 

107. In order to exercise moral judgment with wisdom and 
fairness, we should have a clear notion of the relation of mo- 
tives to conduct. In the study of physics we learn that one 
of the fundamental laws of matter is the law of inertia; that 
is that matter cannot of itself change its state. It moves only 
as it is impelled by some motive force, and its motion will be 
determined in all respects by the character of the matter acted 
on and the character and degree of the force acting upon it. 

These factors account for every physical change; and the 
same force acting on matter in the same condition will invari- 
ably produce the same result. 

This law of inertia is strictly analogous to the law of mo- 
tives in moral conduct; and the activities of the mind are just 
as absolutely subject to law as are the motions of matter. 
Conduct is determined by the state or character of the soul 
and the quality and intensity of the motive, and the same mo- 
tives acting under the same conditions will produce the same 
results. There is nothing fortuitous in moral conduct. 

75 



76 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

108. But the influence of motives on conduct is a much more 
complicated affair than the action of forces on matter. The 
chief difficulty in the way of the analysis of motives is the 
highly subjective character of their influence. The force and 
effect of any object set before the mind as an aim, or incentive, 
depends on the mind's appraisement of the object's desirability ; 
and this depends on the mind's own appetencies. No object 
can of itself move the mind to choice or volition. It has influ- 
ence only as it finds a responsive craving in the mind. It is 
therefore rather misleading to speak of objects as motives. 
The motive — the influence that really moves the mind — is 
rather the desire, the craving or appetencies of the soul. Per- 
haps the best term for these appetencies is affections. The 
affections, then, are the real motive powers of the soul, and if 
the term motive is to be restricted to any one of the several con- 
ditions that must unite to move the mind to choice and voli- 
tion, it is best to confine it to the affections. 

109. But before we look more closely at the affections, let 
us consider a little more fully the order of the mental process 
involved in each voluntary act. Each begins with some crav- 
ing, some want of the body or the mind. If this craving is 
due to some bodily state want we call it an appetite ; if it is 
from some more spiritual demand we speak of it as an ap- 
petence. These are the fundamental source of all voluntary 
activity. They are comparable to the elemental forces of the 
physical world, as heat or gravitation. They are partly due 
to our nature, — our constitution; and manifest themselves in 
those impulses which we call instinct. But these instincts are 
constantly controlled and directed and modified by our will. 
In this way habits are formed by which certain impulses are 
made more powerful, and others weakened by restraint; so 
that the effect of our appetencies is due to habit as well as 
to instinct. In other words our constitutional impulses are 
worked over by our will, so that some of them are almost ex- 



MOTIVES 77 

tirpated and others are intensified by exercise, till our conduct 
is largely due to habit. Certain impulses are strong to-day 
because we have so often yielded to them heretofore, 
no. When these appetencies become definite to our conscious- 
ness, we call them desires; and an object which seems to us adap- 
ted to satisfy the felt want is called an object of our desire, and 
we are impelled or induced to action to secure the object. When 
the object is clearly perceived, and the impulse toward it unop- 
posed, the action follows very simply. 

in. But actual experience is rarely so simple. In almost all 
cases there is more or less serious conflict of desires. We desire 
many things, and can secure but few; hence we find constant 
need of choice. We must secure this by the payment of that. 
We must relinquish the hope of one thing to attain to another ; 
hence we are under the necessity of judging between the one and 
the other object of desire, or, more frequently, between one or 
other of various groups of desire. 

112. We may assume that the choice will be determined by the 
desire, and will be in favor of the strongest desire ; but the diffi- 
cult question still remains, how is the greatest desire to be deter- 
mined? It is obvious that it can not be determined by the char- 
acter of the objects; for an object may be very attractive to one 
mind, and not at all desirable to another; or the same object may 
seem very desirable at one time, and not at all attractive at an- 
other time. How then is the choice made. By what power or 
influence is the will moved ? Has the mind some self determin- 
ing power, by which it can give efficiency to the influence of one 
desire rather than another ? This is the old and perplexing prob- 
lem of the freedom of the will. No solution of this question has 
been found free from difficulty, but we may at least simplify the 
problem by eliminating some features that are not essential. 

First : it is not a question of the mind acting without motives. 
It is no more possible for the mind to act without motives than 
for matter to move without force. 



78 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

Second: it is not a question of the mind's ability to choose. 
It does choose, every voluntary act is the result of choice ; and the 
power to choose is the distinction of rational creatures. 

Third: it is not a question of the power of objects to create 
desire. It cannot be solved by any consideration of such objects, 
for they are only the occasion and not the efficient cause of any 
act of will. 

112. The question is simply this; can the mind, by some inher- 
ent power, give force to certain desires by attention to one rather 
than another of the varied impulses acting upon it? Has it 
power to break the dead-lock which would seem to occur when- 
ever conflicting desires are nearly balanced? 

In answer to this question we are able to say that our con- 
sciousness seems to answer very positively, yes. We feel that we 
have in us the power to put one desire before another, and, when 
we have so chosen, we feel that we could have chosen otherwise. 
We also assume that other people could have done other than 
they did, and blame them for not doing so, or praise them for 
their good choice. 

113. The psychology of this matter is not well understood, but 
in the ordinary use of words, we may properly assert that man 
is free when he is not constrained by anything outside of his own 
mind; and there is nothing outside of our own mind that can 
constrain it. In this sense then man is clearly free to will. 



CHAPTER II 



AFFECTIONS 



114. The whole psychological process of conduct is compara- 
tively clear; but the discussion of it is often obscured by the 
ambiguity of the terms employed. 

The process by which each voluntary act is achieved is this; 
first, there is some want or need of body or mind which creates 
uneasiness or discomfort; this takes the form of a craving or 
hunger; the consciousness of this need is called an appetite or 
appetence, and shows affinity for such objects as will supply the 
want. When the imagination forms an idea of this want and 
the object for which it has affinity, this idea is called a desire, 
and the object toward which it is directed is the object of desire. 
When the attainment of this object is set definitely before the 
mind as an end to be secured it is called an end or purpose. 

But it is not always possible to reach this end immediately; 
it must be secured by means of a series of acts leading to it ; these 
means are each in turn an object of our efforts, but only that we 
may reach the ultimate end. All these acts are involved in the 
plan to reach the ultimate end together with the end itself is 
called our intention. The intention is the entire program set 
before the mind to be performed in order that the object of our 
desire may be secured. This ultimate end, this object of desire 
is often called the motive or sometimes the purpose of our action, 
but it seems more conducive to clearness of thought to use the 
term motive to denote the force or impulse which really moves 
the mind to action. 

And this impulse is the craving or appetence of the mind. It 
is this which gives impetus to the mind and urges it toward the 
object for which it has a propensity or affinity. 

79 



80 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

115. The attitude of the mind in respect to all objects is due to 
its emotional states, its tastes, its propensities, its affections or 
whatever we may name the cravings or likes and dislikes with 
which it regards the ideas of objects presented to consciousness. 

The most suitable term seems to be affections, and we there- 
fore use this term to denote the impulses which impel the mind 
to action. In other words the affections are the motive powers 
of the soul. 

116. These affections are, to some extent, the natural endow- 
ment of each individual soul, but the character and degree of the 
affections differ in different souls. This natural endowment, 
the quality and intensity of our affections is called the disposition 
of the individual. 

There are some affections that are common to all normal souls, 
though in different degrees. For example, parental affection, 
love of companionship, love of the esteem of our fellow men, 
and of the beautiful, desire of pleasure, of victory, of amusement ; 
these and a host of other appetencies are instinctive, universal 
and persistent. 

117. But our affections are extremely susceptible to cultivation. 
They are greatly influenced by our environment, modified by 
our mental development, and most of all, changed by our exercise 
of them whereby habits of thought, of taste and of point of view 
are formed. 

The state of the mind, so far as moral quality is concerned, is 
due to the quality and intensity of the affections that are domi- 
nant in it at any particular time. What we call character is the 
combination of affections that rule the mind. 

"Tell me what you love, and I will tell you what you are" 
is strictly true concerning moral character. "As a man think- 
eth in his heart so is he." 

118. While it is true that the affections are subject to change, 
and in fact are continually in a state of change, it is also true 
that these changes are not lawless nor capriciQus; they de- 



AFFECTIONS 81 

velop according to certain laws of their nature, and are capa- 
ble of cultivation by the mind itself. We cannot greatly 
change our affections by mere act of will or choice. We can- 
not say I have loved the praise of men, henceforth I will not 
love that, but rather the pleasures of music; but we can say 
I have loved this too much; I will henceforth cultivate a love 
for that. 

We can, and do, both voluntarily and involuntarily, both 
consciously and unconsciously, cultivate affections in certain 
consistent groups and proportions which strengthen and sustain 
one another, so that our character tends more and more to a 
settled and fixed state, not easily changed. It becomes more 
reliable, stronger, better able to withstand the strain of any 
erratic appetency by the resistance of other well-established 
affections. 

119. It is because of this tendency to well organized affec- 
tions that character becomes so difficult to change in mature 
years. We may easily be convinced that we do not love the 
best things, but the love for the worse things is difficult to 
move, and the conviction of our judgment will not change our 
character till it somehow reforms the affections. To love the 
right things is to be perfect. Or, as the Scriptures have it, 
"Thou shalt love the Lord* thy God with all thy heart and 
with all thy soul and with all thy mind. This is the first and 
great commandment; and the second is like, Thou shalt love 
thy neighbor as thyself." It is true philosophy that puts love 
at the basis of all conduct; and regards right affections as the 
essence of character, for Love of the right things is '"the ful- 
filling of the law." 

120. Since to love the right things in the right degree is the 
very essence of good character, and character is the source of 
conduct, it is evident that the cultivation of right affections is 
the first step toward the attainment of good character. While 
the impulses to action, the prime motive powers of the soul 



82 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

are its appetencies, and these are determined by its affections, 
still it is reason which directs and controls the . affections. 
While we cannot change our affections by mere effort of the 
will, we can, and should, choose the objects of our affections 
on rational grounds, and cultivate a love for those things which 
reason approves. It is the office of reason not merely to "serve 
the passions" by devising means for the attainment of their 
objects, but rather to govern and discipline them, and to direct 
them to right objects. 

Man is, after all, a reasonable creature — a thinker, and not 
merely the passive subject of his impulses and emotions. There 
is no ready-made ideal which he may adopt. He must choose 
and select and adapt his plans and his ideals to his means and 
needs and circumstances. He must adjust himself to his en- 
vironment. 

It is necessary therefore that he have some appreciation, some 
sense of values, some standards of relative worth of his own 
affections. 

121. It is hardly possible to appraise the various affections, or 
to frame a just scheme of their relative importance, for their 
value is to some degree dependent on the demands made on us 
by our peculiar station and circumstances in life, and also by 
the combinations we can make with the various affections of 
the soul 

The degree of love for my children may be too great in 
proportion to my love for my neighbor, or my desire for 
pleasure too strong for my love of honesty; whereas I might 
well love my children more, or even love pleasure more, if my 
love of my neighbor and my zeal for honesty were more intense. 

122. We can more easily judge of ideals — groups of qualities, 
than of the separate qualities which go to make up such ideals. 
We can appreciate the whole, more easily than analyze it. 

However, it is well to consider what are the chief affections, 
what is their relative value and their order of precedence. We 



AFFECTIONS 83 

have already noticed that the early Hebrew conception of char- 
acter as depicted by the great lawgiver, and endorsed many 
centuries later by the great Galilean, placed the love of God 
as the first and greatest of all its essential factors. "Thou shalt 
love the Lord thy God with all thine heart and with all thy 
soul and with all thy mind." This emphatic statement of the 
supreme importance of a right attitude of mind, a right choice 
of the supreme object of the affections, has never been — can 
never be revised or modified. 

123. The important point to notice in this connection is that 
it is a moral principle that is here defined. The Hebrew con- 
ception of God as the sovereign, creator and ruler of the world 
makes this law the equivalent of a command to cultivate the 
right attitude of mind toward constituted order of the universe, 
to put one's whole soul in harmony with the author of the 
world of which we are a part, and under whose laws we must 
abide. But it is very much more than mere submission to 
authority sanctioned by omnipotence. It is not the counsel of 
prudence, but the dictate of wisdom. It exhorts us not to 
mere obedience, but to harmony of view, concord of sentiment, 
unity of affection. Love what God loves, and the doing of 
his will becomes the spontaneous impulse of the soul. This is 
the very corner stone of Christian ethics, but it is no less the 
fundamental ground of philosophic ethics. Aristotle said no 
act is good till it is pleasant. It is, as we have put it, theistic 
in its conception, but is essentially the same principle that we 
should have to adopt if we assumed a purely agnostic position 
on the question of theology. 

124. Since there is an order of the universe which we cannot 
change, which is comprehensive and self-consistent, it is evi- 
dently necessary to put ourselves — reason, emotions and will — 
in harmony with it — to "love" it; otherwise there is no pos- 
sibility of peace and happiness or excellence. As we must order 
our thinking according to the immutable laws of logic, our 



84 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

manual labors according to the laws of physics, so must we 
adapt our conduct to the principles of righteousness, which are 
the laws of the moral universe. 

125. But this adapting of ourselves to the inevitable, imper- 
sonal order of things cannot be done cordially or completely 
unless there is some personality back of this order; for our 
best affections have affinity for persons, not mere things, or 
abstractions. As a basis of moral conduct there is no substi- 
tute for the cordial affections of the living soul for the living 
God. 

126. The second principle of ethics as thus conceived is little 
more than a corollary of the first. "Thou shalt love thy neigh- 
bor as thyself * follows as logical consequence of the right love of 
God. Harmony with the attributes of God, implies concord 
with His purposes and unity of affections with Him, since all 
men are equally the objects of His supreme sovereign benevo- 
lence, they must be equal and co-ordinate in our affections, ac- 
cording to our various relations to them. 

On these two commandments hangs all the law; and all the 
exposition of the law by the prophets must be tested by these 
elemental principles. 



CHAPTER III 



OBLIGATION 



127. The distinctive feature of moral judgment is the feeling 
of obligation, which seems, not only to accompany, but to form 
a part of the judgment. 

Psychologically, moral judgments are performed just as math- 
ematical or aesthetic judgments are; but when we judge that a 
certain course of conduct is right, we feel a peculiar constraint, 
an obligation to act in that way and no other. Moral judgments 
have an imperative quality, which judgment on other subjects do 
not have, and this imperative quality is proportioned to the impor- 
tance which we judge the action to have. 

There is no doubt whatever about the fact. It is one of the 
most familiar experiences of consciousness. The question is 
whence comes this imperative quality. What authority is behind 
it ? What is its place in the moral order of the world ? 

128. To this we may answer, first, that it is instinctive. It is 
one of those impulses of the human soul which we find to be 
characteristic. It is a constitutional feature ; just as the impulse 
to build nests is a constitutional feature of birds. However we 
came by it, we have it; as we have the impulse to admire the 
beautiful or to seek to excel our fellows. 

But we can go at least a little further into it, and following 
Kant's suggestion notice that moral judgment is in itself an im- 
perative. 

Kant's thought is that man is a reasonable being. His reason 
is his law. His judgment on conduct is the law of conduct. A 
judgment that a certain course of conduct is right is, ipso facto, 
a command to do it ; for to decide that anything is right is only 
another way of saying that it is the thing to do. 

85 



86 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

129. This seems conclusive so far as the sense of obligation is 
concerned, but it brings us to the more difficult question of 
responsibility. We agree that we ought to do right, but suppose 
that we refuse to do it ; what then ? 

The very idea of obligation implies some provision for securing 
the end of the obligation. Such provisions are called sanctions. 
In ethics, sanctions are the incentives which are used to secure 
the performance of right; and they are generally conceived of as 
rewards and penalties. It is more scientific, and more radical, to 
think of them as consequences, — results which follow, — effects 
of which conduct is the cause. Responsibility is the ability to 
respond, to answer, to experience the consequences of conduct. 

130. In all the activities of nature, there is the invariable fea- 
ture of causation. Certain events follow certain others in inevi- 
table order ; the first is called the cause, the following the effect ; 
the order and degree of their relation is called the law of the 
particular force which produces the event. 

The law of gravitation, for example, is the manner and degree 
in which the force of gravity is exerted. From these laws of 
nature there is no escape. So long as the constitution of the 
universe is unrevised: two plus two shall be four, the broken 
staff will not reunite, and what a man sows that shall he also 
reap. 

In this sense there is no limit to human responsibility. We 
are free to act, but every act whether physical or moral brings 
its inevitable consequences. There is no possibility of escape 
from the effects of any act. If I drink poison I suffer the conse- 
quence of my deed — always, inevitably; and all the conditions 
being the same, the consequences will always be exactly the same. 

If I do wrong I suffer the consequences, always and inevitably. 
There is no such thing as chance or accident known in the con- 
stitution of the universe. 

It is true that other things may be done to counter-act the 
effects of what has been done. I may take an antidote for the 



OBLIGATION 87 

poison, that will have its proper effect and so prevent my death. 
I may do something else to rectify the wrong that I have done ; 
but in no case is the law of nature annulled or modified. 

All this is just as true of moral law as of physical. The soul 
is as absolutely bound by the laws of its nature as the body is by 
the laws relating to it. 

131. But the problem of moral responsibility is complicated and 
made difficult by the intricate relation between the motive and 
the intention and the outward acts. 

The moral consequences follow the moral acts, and the physi- 
cal effects the physical causes, but these are so intimately bound 
together that it is not easy to separate them even in thought. 

Saint Crispin stole leather to make shoes for the poor, thereby 
no doubt promoting the general welfare, but he stole. Shall we 
say he did wrong? In the actual experience of life we are con- 
stantly meeting cases which are extremely difficult to decide. 
Either because we do not clearly see the principles involved, or 
because the principles seem to conflict. 

When we honestly endeavor to do the right, but actually do 
the wrong, do we justly suffer the consequences of our mistake. 
If we say yes, it seems a great hardship. If we say no, then the 
conclusion seems to be: " Where ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to 
be wise," which is certainly a very unsatisfactory conclusion. 

132. Such cases can only be decided in detail. Each on the 
merits of the case, that is after full consideration of all the cir- 
cumstances and conditions, and these are capable of infinite var- 
iation. 

The study of such cases is the field of a special branch of ethics 
called Casuistry. The science of jurisprudence also finds it an 
important field of study, and every man finds frequent occasion 
for the consideration of such cases as confront him in his daily 
life. It is worth while therefore to look at some of the more 
fundamental principles involved in which we call responsibility. 



CHAPTER IV 



RESPONSIBILITY 



133. In the discussion of responsibility we shall simplify the 
problems by viewing them from the personal point of view, ask- 
ing how and how far am I personally responsible. We may sim- 
plify still further by eliminating some of the cases that are ob- 
viously not under our jurisdiction. 

134. First: we are not morally responsible for actions that are 
wholly involuntary. If I fall on the icy payment and break my 
leg, I am not to be blamed for thereby missing my train, or fail- 
ing to keep an engagement. 

135. Second : We are not responsible for failing to do what we 
would do but cannot. The doctor who does his best to save a 
life but fails is not blamed ; and the leader of a forlorn hope is 
praised for his heroic dash to defeat. 

136. Third: we extenuate the faults that are due in large part 
to unfavorable environment. The child of the slums is not judg- 
ed by the same standard as the child of opportunity and means of 
culture. 

137. In all these cases there is a mixture, and more or less con- 
fusion, of the object of our judgment. We have in mind partly 
the outward conduct, — the overt acts, — and partly the motives 
and intentions, and partly — perhaps chiefly, the person, his char- 
acter and the affections from which the impulse to action chiefly 
springs. But in all such cases we limit or discharge from respon- 
sibility in our judgment much for which nature holds every one 
to strict responsibility. We judge that the child born in the 
gutter, reared in an atmosphere of vice and ignorance, is not 
responsible for his low character, his moral degradation and vici- 
ous tastes, yet nature does not excuse him, but holds him by the 

88 



RESPONSIBILITY 89 

inexorable law of cause and effect. Poison taken by mistake is 
no less deadly than the same dose given with murderous intent; 
and vicious influences deprave the soul and bring it to misery and 
ruin with the same inevitable certainty, however those influences 
may be brought to bear upon the soul. 

138. The fact that "there be wicked men to whom it happenth 
according to the work of the righteous, and righteous men to 
whom it happenth according to the work of the wicked" is a 
perplexing problem, which we shall discuss later. Our present 
inquiry is with regard to the responsibility which we find actually 
resting upon us, and which our sense of justice approves. 

139. This is best understood by approaching it from the point 
of view of obligation ; and obligation is best understood from its 
relation to rights. 

140. Rights may be defined as those powers and opportunities 
assigned to us in the constitution of the world) such as life, 
liberty, and the means of happiness. All such rights are limited 
in two ways : first, by their own nature, and, second, by the rights 
of others. Our obligation consists in using these rights accord- 
ing to their nature, within their proper limits, and so as to pro- 
mote, or at least to not interfere with, the rights of others. 

141. Rights, obligations and responsibility are correlative. I 
am responsible for the use of my powers so as to keep within 
my rights and meet tKe obligations involved, which will depend 
to a good degree on the relations I occupy toward other persons, 
and all outward circumstances. Where I fulfill my obligations 
I merit approval and esteem, when I fail to do so I incur blame 
and deserve punishment. So far as my powers are limited by 
weakness or ignorance or outward circumstances my obligation 
is limited, and my responsibility modified. 

142. But the limitations themselves are matters of obligation. 
To a good degree I make my own environment. The free 
choice of today puts me, tomorrow, in circumstances over which 
I have no control. My responsibility extends to the past acts, 



go THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

and I am judged by the whole course of my conduct. I may 
by my free actions form habits which I cannot overcome. I am 
judged not merely by the acts committed because of the force 
of the habit, but by the acts which formed the habit. 

143. Moreover, there is a still more difficult complication of 
the matter in the fact of heredity and parental control. The 
free acts of parents have tremendous influence on the possi- 
bilities of the children, and thus the whole race is to some de- 
gree a unit, and every individual's rights and obligations and 
responsibilities are bound up with those of the family, the 
community and all mankind. 

144. In view of these complications it is easy to see that re- 
sponsibility is an extremely difficult thing to measure, and a 
matter to be handled with greatest care; and we can appreci- 
ate the wisdom of the precept of Jesus, " Judge not:" and the 
satirical line of Horace, "change the name — the circumstances 
— and the story may be told of you." 

145. But we are not to conclude that there is therefore no 
ground for praise or blame, no such thing as merit to be as- 
cribed to men on the ground of their conduct. It is the inevit- 
able consequence of approval of conduct that we feel a certain 
degree of respect and admiration for those whose conduct we 
approve. This is something more than approval, more than 
mere judgment that they have done the right thing. It is a 
sentiment, an attitude of mind toward the person. We approve 
the conduct of a good man and therefore honor the man. We 
infer from what he does that his character is good. 

146. This feeling of respect or admiration is an appreciation 
of excellence, a recognition of worth, and an acknowledgment 
of a certain claim of reward due to the man who does well. It 
is more than a judgment that he is worthy of reward; it is 
a sort of first payment of this recognized claim. We feel an 
obligation to pay honor to whom honor is due. It is the spon- 
taneous tribute of respect paid to him whose conduct is ap- 



RESPONSIBILITY 91 

proved. 

147. But our moral sense seems to demand more than this. 
We feel that he is entitled not only to our respect, but to some 
good fruit of his right conduct. We feel that he deserves a 
degree of welfare proportioned to his goodness. And on the 
other hand we feel that the man who does wrong deserves some 
kind of punishment. We give to the bad man our disapproval 
of his conduct, our contempt for his character, and feel that he 
ought somehow to suffer for his wickedness. It has been gen- 
erally held that society should punish men for doing wrong, 
not only to deter them and others from further wrong doing, 
but to vindicate justice; that is to inflict punishment because 
it was deserved. However, this function is liable to abuse, and 
great cruelty has been done in the name of vindicatory justice, 
nevertheless our instinct of justice, of fair play, im- 
pels us to resent and punish outrage by inflicting 
pain on the offender. We hardly hear with patience the sen- 
timental protest against the instinctive impulse to thrash the 
bully caught in the act of abusing a child, and we scorn to jus- 
tify our thrashing him on the ground that we aimed only at his 
own good or the prevention of such crimes. 

Even in holding a vicious character in contempt we admit 
the right to vindicate justice; for what is contempt but pun- 
ishment ? often the severest that can be inflicted. 



CHAPTER V 

THE STANDARD OF MORAL JUDGMENT 

148. All judgment implies a standard by which to judge, — • 
measure with which to mete. Conduct is called right or 
wrong according as it conforms or fails to conform to some 
rule or law which we assume as a standard. Good and bad 
denote the measure in which conduct fulfills some ideal of good- 
ness that we have in mind. 

149. The correctness of our moral judgment, therefore, de- 
pends, first of all, on the correctness of the standard by which 
we judge; and the most important question of ethics is the 
question of the moral standard. Our moral sense may strongly 
urge a certain course of conduct, and we may feel that it is the 
only right course for us to follow; but this feeling does not 
wholly satisfy our judgment. We may be satisfied that a cer- 
tain course of conduct is our duty, and still be unable to jus- 
tify our conduct at the bar of reason. 

If ethics is to rank as a philosophy at all, it must answer the 
question, why is goodness good and righteousness right? 

150. The best thought of many centuries has been directed to 
this problem; the greatest names in the history of philosophy 
are found in the list of those who have discussed it ; and many 
and varied have been the answers proposed. Much has been 
done to elucidate the matter, to isolate the question and clarify 
it of all extraneous complications, and thus prepare the way for 
its solution but there is not yet any consensus of opinion, nor 
any answer that is satisfactory to all. 

151. It is in the very nature of the case that no standard of 
morals can be conceived that will be complete or perfect; for 
the conception of such an ideal requires complete knowledge and 

92 



THE STANDARD OF MORAL JUDGMENT 93 

perfect moral taste; neither of which has yet been attained by 
any man. All that can be reasonably hoped for is a general 
and somewhat vague ideal, a vision seen "Through a glass dark- 
ly" and not face to face; for we know in part and can only 
prophesy that part. However, it is to be noted, that the limi- 
tations of our knowledge does not of necessity throw doubt on 
that which is within our field of vision. We may not be able 
to conceive a perfectly beautiful human face, but we can say 
with confidence that the face of the Sistine Madonna is beauti- 
ful, and the face of Medusa is not. 

152. The various definitions of the standard of right are chiefly 
distinguished by the point of view which one assumes. An 
ideal of conduct presents many features, all of them in some 
degree essential; but the ideal as a whole will depend very 
largely on the degree of emphasis that is placed on one or 
another of these features. There are therefore many defini- 
tions of the standard of moral judgment, differing greatly in 
detail, but they may be conveniently classified under these gen- 
eral heads. 

153. First: good conduct may be conceived of as that which 
conforms to law. The law thus taken as the standard may be 
thought of as the settled custom of the community that which 
has somehow come to be considered the proper thing to do. 
This seems to have been the conception which prevailed when 
the philosophy of conduct was first named ethics, — from, ethos, 
custom or manner of life. 

But the law, that is assumed as the standard, may be thought 
of as a command given by some superior authority, as the state 
or the church or the gods or God. In this case, right is obedi- 
ence; goodness is conformity to the will of the lawgiver, and evil 
is that which transgresses or fails to conform to that will. 

154. Second: if we view conduct from the point of view of 
results, we may conceive of the standard as that which effects 
good results, and these results may be measured in various terms. 



94 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

We may think of them in the general terms of human welfare ; 
or in more specific terms of happiness, or, in more profound con- 
ceptions, as the glory of God. 

155. Third: it is possible to regard good conduct as simply that 
which our conscience — our moral sense or instinct, approves. We 
may say of moral judgment as we say of aesthetic taste it is not 
capable of being subject to reason, "de gustibus non disputan- 
dum" If we like the taste of caviar we like it, if we do not, 
we do not, and no argument can persuade us, or alter the fact. 
So it may be held that goodness can be judged no further than 
by appeal to the normal moral taste, popularly called conscience. 

156. Fourth: in recent years, the tendency to view all things 
from the point of view of evolution has led to a conception some- 
what different from either of the foregoing and combining some 
of the features of each of them. 

This view presents the standard of right as that which realizes, 
or tends to realize, our highest or most rational self. In its prac- 
tical application it means that we ought always to do that which 
promotes the progress of mankind in the line of his true develop- 
ment. If it may be defined at all, it would be stated thus. The 
standard of right is harmony with human progress as that pro- 
gress is evolving by the inherent powers of the soul. All these 
conceptions are capable of various forms, and give rise to differ- 
ent views which we will discuss more fully later. 

157. It is difficult to distinguish these varied concepts of the 
moral standard as actually held by different writers, because they 
are not mutually exclusive, but differ rather in the emphasis 
placed on one or another feature of the ideal. Certain groups 
however are distinguished and named. The most prominent 
of these are the Imperative, the Utilitarian, the Hedonistic, the 
Intuitional, the Rational and the Evolutionary, with a host of 
compromising theories composed of features taken from different 
points of view. 



CHAPTER VI 

THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD 

158. Of the various conceptions of an ethical standard probably 
the oldest and most widely accepted in the past is that which 
regards the will of the gods, or of God, as the ultimate standard 
of right. Goodness is obedience to the will of God. Men ought 
to do God's will because He commands it, and has sanctioned 
His commands by rewards and penalties. 

This is simple, easily apprehended, and analogous with the 
obligations of parental and civil government, and, as far as it 
goes, is certainly true. 

159. But a little reflection convinces one that this cannot be 
the ultimate ground of goodness. It is true that we ought to 
obey God's revealed will, for He is wise and good. If either 
His wisdom or his goodness were doubtful the ground of our 
obligation would be destroyed. It might be prudent to obey 
an unrighteous god, lest we should incur his wrath and enmity; 
even as slaves obey a cruel master, but we would feel no moral 
obligation. Our sense of justice revolts against the command 
that has no better sanction than mere power to punish; and we 
conceive of moral law as based on something deeper than the 
arbitrary will of a being however powerful that being may be. 

The decalogue for example is to be thought of as a definition 
of righteousness, not as the ground of right. It is binding upon 
us not because God revealed it as the rule of our obedience, but 
He gave it as our rule because it was eternally right that we 
should so conduct ourselves. So the whole revealed will of God 
is — as the word reveal denotes, simply the unveiling of that 
which was not seen, the making known of that which was un- 
known but true from the beginning of creation. 

95 



96 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

1 60. This conception of God's law is more easily apprehended 
by us in these days, because it is the same sense in which we use 
the word law in all other sciences. The law of gravitation for 
example is simply a statement of fact, a definition of the order 
of events, and the method of action of certain forces. So all the 
laws of physics and chemistry, and of all the fprces of the natural 
world, are simply convenient statements of the way these forces 
act. The laws of God are simply the expressions of His eternal 
character, embodied in the constitution of the world. The forces 
of nature, working according to these laws have evolved the 
present universe from the void and dark chaotic mass of that 
beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, but not 
one jot or tittle has passed from the laws imposed on matter in 
the beginning. So the principles of moral law date from that 
time when the moral universe was constituted. The giving of 
the law on Sinai, by the hand of Moses, and the giving of the 
law of gravitation by the hand of Newton were both only the 
fuller, clearer, revelation of laws which are and ever have been 
in the very constitution of the world. The publication of the 
decalogue did not make murder wrong, but the law was given 
that we might know that it is wrong. The standard of right is 
not law in the sense of a rule or commandment, but in the sense 
of an established order of the moral universe. It has its basis, 
not in commandments, but in creation. 

161. This conception of the ultimate source of moral law is in 
harmony with modern philosophy, which teaches with renewed 
emphasis the doctrine of cosmic unity. There is no clashing 
of physical forces ; the laws of chemistry, of mathematics, of 
physics and of psychology are found to be harmonious. The 
laws of ethics are also a part of the scheme of the universe. 
They are a department of the established order of the world. 

162. We should expect therefore to find the practical outcome 
of obedience to moral law conducive to human welfare and 
happiness. As we find the activities of our physical powers that 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD 97 

are necessary to our life and health conducive to happiness and 
excellence, so we would expect to find that conduct which is 
according to the laws of our moral nature — in harmony with 
the moral order of the universe — productive of peace and bless- 
edness. 

162. And we are not disappointed in this expectation. We 
find that honesty is the best policy, that courage and kindness 
win honor and esteem, and godliness profitable in the world that 
now is. 

But we must not mistake cause for effect, nor reason post 
hoc, propter hoc. It does not follow that, since honesty is 
found to be good policy, that therefore honesty is mere policy: 
or that an act is honest because it is politic. This seems to be 
the fundamental error of the utilitarian theory of ethics, which 
holds that conduct which leads to the welfare of mankind is 
good conduct, which is true; and that is good because it leads 
to such welfare, which is not true. Good results are the 
evidence of good conduct, but this is very different from the state- 
ment that good results makes conduct good. True, men do 
not gather figs of thistles, but the fruit is not the cause of the 
fig tree it is only an indication of its character. "By their fruits 
ye shall know them" 

163. The failure to distinguish between evidence and cause has 
been a fruitful source of confusion. 

It is true that all that God requires us to do is right. It is 
quite true that happiness is only to be found in good conduct. 
It is generally true that what our moral sense urges us to do 
is right and should be done. But it is not true that conduct is 
right because God commands it nor because it leads to happi- 
ness nor because our moral sense approves it. 

The order is the other way around. God commands only 
that which is good and right. Happiness is the consequence 
of right conduct. Our moral sense, when uncorrupted, indi- 
cates the right. All of these are useful guides to what is right. 



98 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

They are the best evidence of moral quality, but they are noth- 
ing more. 

I may test sugar by tasting it; but the taste does not make 
it sugar, it only convinces me that it is sugar. The character 
of the sugar is objective, my knowledge of it is subjective. A 
mistake on my part cannot affect the character of the object; 
nor can the object be changed by any new knowledge of it that 
I may acquire; any more than I can add a cubit to my stature 
by taking thought. 

The excellence and the defects of the various theories of 
ethical standard are best seen from this point. 

If we distinguish clearly between the reason why a thing is 
right, and the reason by which we know it to be right, it is 
clear that the fact that welfare, or pleasure, always follows as 
the result of good conduct is a good guide — a convenient index 
— by which we may judge practically what is good conduct. 
Yet it does not follow at all that this good result constitutes 
the goodness of the conduct. 

164. It is certainly true that the safest and easiest way to 
learn what conduct is good is to observe results. The utili- 
tarians have done most valuable service in pointing out so 
clearly the close and uniform correspondence between good con- 
duct and human welfare; but as a basis for moral distinction, 
or a definition of moral Tightness these facts are of no more 
value than the fact that ice is always cold and hard is to ac- 
count for its becoming ice when water falls to a certain tempera- 
ture. 

165. So the intuitional position is certainly sound and strong 
in its assertion that certain feelings, such as benevolence and 
love of justice, spring spontaneously in every human heart, and 
that they urge us with impressive authority to certain conduct. 

Kant's "categorical imperative ,, is one of the unquestionable 
facts of all our experience. But all these are nothing more 
than guides, indexes, monitors to urge us in the way that is 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD 99 

right. 

166. So the teleologist tells us that the end justifies the means, 
that the only thing that can justify any means is good ends — 
good results attained, or at least intended. This is perfectly 
true, but justify in such a case means nothing more than vindi- 
cates, — proves to be good — shows that the act was good. It 
can not possibly make it good. There is no other ultimate basis 
for moral distinction, than such as there is for mathematical or 
physical or chemical distinction, namely that the world was 
made that way; or if you prefer the phrase, The world is that 
way. The law of gravitation, the binomial theorem, the order 
of the seasons and the fundamental distinction between right 
and wrong all rest alike on the ultimate facts of the constitution 
of the universe. 

167. But by far the most important question here is the rela- 
tion of this fundamental law of nature to the commandments 
which, we believe, God has given ; or, in other words, what is the 
relation between philosophic ethics and revealed moral law? 

It is reasonable to presume that there are not, cannot be two 
systems of ethics. It is hardly possible to suppose that con- 
duct that is right in the nature of the world can be wrong by 
divine command, or by a revealed code of moral law. Yet we 
often hear revealed ethics spoken of as in some sense different 
from the ethics of philosophy, and it may be well worth while 
to look into the matter. 

168. We have tried to point out the difference between the 
idea of law as it is used in science to denote a mode of action, or 
the constitutional relation between two or more events, and the 
idea of law as a command or rule laid down to be obeyed ; for 
example, it is a law of mathematics that the square of the 
hypotenuse of any right angled triangle is equal to the sum of 
the squares of the other two sides. This is a law of nature, 
an eternal principle in the constitution of the universe. It is 
of universal application. 



ioo THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

But my workmen are not sufficiently skilled in mathematics 
to apply this law in its general form, I therefore direct them to 
measure six feet on one side, and then eight feet to the right from 
the end of that line, in such direction that the distance from the 
beginning of the first line to the end of the second shall be ten 
feet, and the angle thus formed will be a right angle. This is a 
commandment, a rule laid down for obedience. It is simply an 
application of the principle, a concrete case under the general 
rule, a partial revelation of a great natural law. 

169. The decalogue and all the divine commands, are of this 
kind first of all. They point out certain concrete acts which 
shall or shall not be done. They do not create new obligations, 
but reveal that which was from the beginning. But they do 
more than this, they indicate certain principles which are general 
and universal. 

Thou shalt not kill enjoins us from a specific crime, but it 
also implies a natural law, not only forbidding murder, but also 
all infringement of man's right to live. "He that hateth his 
brother is a murderer" is only a fair interpretation of the com- 
mand thou shalt not kill; for the prohibition of killing is by a 
figure of metonymy the prohibition of all that may cause murder. 

1 70. All such laws — commands — imply still more ; they recog- 
nize and endorse the rights which the forbidden acts would 
destroy or diminish. To forbid you to kill me is a recognition of 
my right to life. 

The laws-— statutes — of divine revelation are great land- 
marks from which we may find out the principles of morals 
which are immutable as heaven. 

171. Any discovery of a right rule of conduct answers the 
same purpose — or would answer the same purpose ; for it is not 
important what light we see by if only we see; but it is matter 
of history that no other code or law has ever been devised that 
can for one moment be compared to the ten comandments 
given by the hand of Moses on Mount Sinai, Thi§ is the 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD 101 

greatest landmark in the whole history of ethics. And the 
teaching of Jesus of Nazareth, where he pointed out the prin- 
ciple of their interpretation, is beyond comparison the greatest 
contribution to philosophic ethics that the world has ever re- 
ceived. 

172. But that teaching reached its profoundest depth when it 
pointed out that the source and fountain of conduct is the affec- 
tions ; and that right affections consist essentially in right attitude 
of mind and soul toward God. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy 
God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy 
mind." 

That is the only scientific statement of the matter. It is 
ultimate, it is complete. 

THE STANDARD IMPERATIVE 

173. The simplest conception of the moral standard is that 
which regards it as the will of some superior being. Accord- 
ing to this view, goodness is conformity to rules laid down for 
our obedience; and proper inquiry as to these laws is limited 
to the question, what is the will of the law giver? This view 
is illustrated by the relation of children to parents, of servant 
to master or soldiers to their officers, — "Their's not to reason 
why." 

174. The ordinary obligations of our daily life are measured 
chiefly by this standard. We regulate our conduct so as to 
conform to the laws of the state, the rules of custom, the con- 
ventionality of society; and are not much concerned to ask 
whether these regulations are well founded or not, unless they 
seriously interfere with our freedom. We recognize many of 
them as the dictates of convenience only. When we drive on 
the streets, we keep to the right, and so avoid collision; in 
England they keep to the left, for the same reason. The one 
rule is as good as the other; which we do is of no importance, 



ioa THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

but to have some agreement, some regular custom, is very im- 
portant. If any man, acting on the fact that one rule is as 
good as the other, insists on keeping to the left, where the 
rule is keep on the right, he makes trouble for himself and 
everybody else: and we devise punishment to prevent such con- 
duct. These punishments may be such as fine and imprison- 
ment, or they may be social disfavor, or merely the bad language 
of other drivers whom he annoys; but, whatever form they 
take, they are all for the same purpose, to sanction the rule, — 
to secure conduct according to the will of the community. 
Thus the will of the community, or state, is made the standard 
of right conduct. Certainly a large part of our statute laws are 
based on such considerations and, if they answer some useful 
purpose, we do not trouble ourselves to look for any more re- 
mote reason for them. We obey them because they are sanc- 
tioned by authority, with power to punish. 

175. When we inquire further as to the limits of this au- 
thority — as to the right of the community to lay down rules 
for the individual — the right of the majority to say what the 
minority may do, we find it is a very difficult question, and 
are obliged to look for some more fundamental principles by 
which to determine the matter. In other words, we find that 
we must have some standard by which to measure the rules we 
may impose on one another. 

176. In practise we compromise, we grant to the community 
certain authority which we deny to the individual. The com- 
munity may take money from one and use it for the benefit of 
another; as in taxation for the support of free schools. The 
community may take away a man's property and even his life, 
as a punishment for crime against an individual. Now, if it 
may do these things, why not others also? Why not take all 
the money from the man who cannot, or does not, use it wisely ? 
Why not take life from the man who is dangerous to the com- 
munity? In short, what are the limits to the authority of the 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD 103 

people acting as a whole? What laws may they not make? and 
why not? 

177. It is evident that the will of the people cannot be taken 
as a standard of moral judgment. The laws framed by the 
community, either as statutes or customs, may be the expres- 
sion of the grossest ignorance or the most utter selfishness and, 
so far from forming an obligation, may properly provoke resist- 
ance on the part of every upright citizen. 

We must look somewhere else than to the will of the people 
if we hope to find some source of law that can be regarded as 
morally binding, or taken as a standard of right. 

178. The only will that can be thought of as having inherent 
authority is the will of God ; and it is regarded by some as the 
ultimate standard of duty. 

This is right and reasonable, if by a standard of duty we 
mean a practical index, — a means of determining w T hat we 
should do, and what we should avoid. It is not unreasonable 
to say that the duty God requires of man is obedience to his 
revealed will, if we have reason to believe that God is just. But 
in that case we do not really regard the will of God as the 
standard, but his justice. That is to say, we acknowledge our 
obligation to obey God's will because it is the expression of his 
character as a just ruler. It is his justice and not his command 
that we regard as the standard of moral judgment. 

THE STANDARD INTUITIVE 

179. Closely related to the concept of right as obedience to the 
command of some superior is the theory of intuitive perception 
of moral quality. This view has been widely taught, and by 
many of the wisest of moralists. It is capable of a variety of 
different forms of statement, but essentially all amount to the 
same thing. It assumes that man possesses a special "faculty," 
by which he immediately recognizes moral quality. He per- 



104 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

ceives envy to be wrong just as simply as he perceives sugar 
sweet, or the sky blue, and this perception is ultimate. Right 
is that which the moral faculty approves, wrong is that which it 
condemns, and there is no appeal from its decision, for there is 
nothing more fundamental to appeal to. Its decisions, so far at 
least as they relate to motives, are to be regarded as infallible. 
It cannot be educated, for education is training according to 
reason, and this faculty is regarded as superior to reason. 

"That conscience intuitively recognizes moral law, that it is 
supreme in its authority, and that it cannot be educated are 
three propositions which hang or fall together. The philosophic 
accuracy of all three seems to me established on the fullest 
evidence." — Calderwood. 

1 80. This whole concept is so foreign to our current psychol- 
ogy as to be rather difficult to clearly apprehend. We are not 
accustomed to regard the mind as divided into "faculties/' and 
do not always get the exact idea intended by the word in older 
writers. Dr. Calderwood introduces this view of conscience 
thus, "A function of intelligence, so remarkable in its nature, 
and so influential in our life, as recognition of first principles 
of all reasoning in morals, must, both in common language and 
in philosophic usage, be identified with a distinct faculty or 
power of mind. Its central place and its regulative function 
in thought and conduct must secure this, for whatever the 
achievements of observation and induction, an original power 
recognizing universal truth must appear the source of true 
wisdom/ ' 

It would seem from this definition of the "moral faculty" 
that no other standard is needed, even if possible; and hardly 
possible, because this faculty is defined as superior to reason, 
and therefore more reliable than the judgments of reason de- 
rived from any standard whatever. 

181. That this is the view taken by this school as indicated by 
Kant's famous phrase, "The Categorical Imperative," as the 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD 105 

descriptive term for the dictates of conscience; or Bp. Butler's 
dictum, "Had it strength, as it has right, had it power as it 
has manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the world/ } 

182. The chief contention of the intuitional school must be 
granted. The power of the mind to perceive moral quality in 
conduct is certainly a unique and remarkable function, which 
no other creature on earth is able to perform. 

The imperative character of the feeling which accompanies 
such perception is one of the marvelous phenomena of our 
mental experience ; and the terrible penalty which the soul suf- 
fers in that anguish called remorse — all these are facts of the 
very first importance. The world owes a great debt of grati- 
tude to Kant and Butler and every one who has contributed to 
the emphasis placed on these functions of the soul. 

183. But the whole matter is greatly clarified by distinguish- 
ing more sharply between the different functions of the mind 
formerly included, and confused, under the term conscience, 
or the moral faculty; and also by discriminating more care- 
fully the knowledge of right, and the ground of right. 

The whole subject of conscience has been discussed above, — 
for the present it is enough to remember that the term con- 
science is used to denote three different mental activities: first, 
the ability to perceive moral quality — to distinguish right from 
wrong. This is perception, nothing else. 

Second, the sense of obligation — the impulse to do or not to 
do a certain act, is distinctly a feeling or sentiment and belongs 
to the emotional side of the soul. 

Third, the violent emotions which rise from retrospect of 
our disobedience to these dictates of conscience also belong to 
the emotional nature, though quite distinct from the feeling 
of obligation. 

There is no ground for regarding these three functions as 
applied to morals as forming a distant faculty, no ground for 
the assumption that the perception of moral quality differs in 



io6 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

character from the perception of any other qualities. This 
combining of such diverse functions under one term is confusing 
and unwarranted. 

184. Moreover in this, as in many other connections, much 
confusion is occasioned by failing to distinguish between the 
knowledge of right and the ground of right. I may learn the 
deadly character of poison by my own experience, or I may 
be told of it by some one else, or I may infer it from some other 
knowledge. The means of my information has nothing to do 
with the fact, that is just the same whether I know it by one 
means or another, or do not know it at all. So the character 
of right and wrong, and the standard of moral judgment is not 
affected at all by the means through which that character or its 
standard are discovered. 

All that is important regarding the intuition of moral quality 
has been considered under instinct and perception. 



CHAPTER VII 

THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD Continued 

THE STANDARD UTILITARIAN 

185. As we have already remarked, it is possible to regard the 
consequences of conduct as the measure of moral excellence. It 
is not only possible, but actually held by some of the most astute 
moralists of our time that the only reasonable standard of moral 
judgment is utility. Goodness, they maintain, can be nothing 
but such a state of activity as produces good results, " Any thing 
good must be good for something," "By their fruits ye shall 
know them, ,, and other epigrams are quoted as the basis of 
their theory. 

186. The best definition of the theory is Sidgwick's, "By Util- 
itarianism is meant the ethical theory that the conduct which, 
under any given circumstances, is objectively right, is that which 
will produce the greatest amount of happiness on the whole; 
that is, taking into account all whose happiness is affected by the 
conduct." 

187. The leading word here is happiness. It is taken to be the 
measure of the good results of good conduct ; and therefore the 
production of happiness is the standard of moral excellence. 

188. This is very plausible, and appeals strongly to super- 
ficial reasoners; but it will not bear examination. 

In the first place, happiness is a very vague term ; the nearest 
definition we can frame for it is, satisfaction of desires. If we 
substitute this phrase for the word happiness, we have the prop- 
osition, that conduct that will satisfy the most desires is the 
best conduct. But this gives us a form without content, and 
one that even as a form is false ; for, since our desires are imper- 

107 



io8 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

feet, they cannot make a perfect standard of anything. If by 
happiness we mean the satisfaction of such desires as all men 
should have we are no nearer a standard than we were before. 

189. If, on the other hand, we define happiness in the only 
way it can be defined, as the satisfaction of the individual's 
desires, — and all desires and all happiness are individual — we 
have the intelligible, but repulsive, doctrine that goodness is 
selfishness — the gratification of my desires. 

190. These alternatives compel the advocates of this theory 
to divide into two different, and irreconcilable, schools; one 
holding, with some logical consistency, to the doctrine that the 
standard of goodness is the happiness of the individual, — that is 
right for me which, in the long run, gives me the most pleasure. 
This is known as Hedonism, — 

This doctrine, while intelligible and consistent, is so repul- 
sive that it is hardly considered respectable. 

191. The other school — sometimes called Uni'versalistic He- 
donism, but more generally, Utilitarianism, attempts to evade 
the difficulties of their position by asserting that universal hap- 
piness is to be aimed at because it is reasonable. This we may 
readily accept, for by this explanation it ceases to be utilitarian 
at all, and becomes simply rational. On the whole Utilitarian- 
ism cannot be separated from Hedonism. Hedonism must be 
individual or universal. If individual, it lands us in the repul- 
sive doctrine that selfishness is goodness, — might is right, and 
the satisfaction of my desires is the true end of moral excel- 
lence. If universal, it means nothing more than the empty 
form, "the greatest good of the greatest number/' with no defi- 
nition of the "good" demanded. 

192. The plausibility of the whole theory lies in the fallacy 
of false obversion, for while it is true that to be happy one 
must be good, it does not follow to be good one needs only to 
be happy. 

The best discussion of this theory may be found in Sidgwick's 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD 109 

Method of Ethics, and in Green's Prolegomena or Lecky's His- 
tory of Morals. 



THE STANDARD EVOLUTIONARY 






193. The general acceptance of the principle of evolution as 
an important factor in the history of man has greatly changed, 
often revolutionized, many of our concepts in all the fields of 
knowledge, with the possible exception of mathematics. 

194. Nowhere has evolution encountered more perplexing 
problems than in the domain of ethics; and nowhere is there, 
as yet, any well defined system of adjustment of the doctrines 
of evolution to the facts of ethical experience. 

195. Indeed the doctrines of evolution are still far from any 
definite and orderly system; and when one uses the term it is 
well to define its intended meaning. For our purpose here, we 
may define evolution as the doctrine that the present state of 
the universe, including man, reached its present condition from 
a much simpler one by a series of slight changes, due not to 
any new or external forces, but by the orderly activity of forces 
working on matter and in it according to certain invariable order 
— called laws. These forces and laws and properties are suf- 
ficient to account for all phenomena. They give no account 
of their origin, and no indication of their ultimate aim, if they 
have any. These changes, which are incessant, tend, on the 
whole, to more and more complexity of form and interaction. 
Organisms of all sorts have reached their present state from 
simpler ones, but many of them long ago reached a state of 
development which has not changed, and indeed seems incapa- 
ble of further development. 

196. The descent of man is supposed to have been from the 
lowest, simplest form of life through various stages similar to 
those still occupied by lower orders of being, reaching con- 
sciousness, self-consciousness 3 intelligence and moral, or spiritual, 



no THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

consciousness, each in their order and at enormous intervals of 
time. Moral consciousness — the ability to distinguish good 
from evil and to act from motives that are distinctly ethical 
is his latest, and highest, achievement. 

197. Now supposing this to be a fairly correct history of the 
descent of man, does it give us any clue to the question, what 
is the standard of moral judgment? what is the essential nature 
of goodness? 

198. There are many and varied answers given to this ques- 
tion. On the one hand it is urged that such a view of man's 
descent destroys all ethical distinction, and, of course, blots out 
the science of ethics altogether, and reduces the study of man 
to the tracing of his history, with perhaps some vague guess- 
ing as to the general direction in which he seems to be drifting. 
If evolution gives no sure indication of its purpose, or still 
worse, indicates that it has none, — and is to be regarded as 
"blind," then indeed we can hope for nothing from it that will 
help us to answer the question what is goodness 

199. But it is not at all necessary to grow discouraged on 
account of evolution. Even if it contributes nothing to our 
knowledge of goodness, it at least takes nothing away. It 
raises no question as to man's present condition. It is con- 
cerned only to show how he got where he is — a question which 
ethics does not ask, and is but little concerned with. Ethics is 
concerned with his present condition and his possible future. 
We are dealing with conditions not theories of origin ; and evo- 
lution, and evolution theories are quite aside from our purpose. 

200. But while the doctrines of evolution have little relation 
to the problems of ethics, the point of view of the evolution- 
ist does bring out with greater clearness certain features of 
man's present state and circumstances which are important to 
ethics. i 

201. First; the most prominent features of evolution is con- 
tinuity. Man's history is not a series of disconnected events, it 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD in 

is a development, an unfolding of that which was enfolded, an 
evolution of that which was involved, and must be regarded as 
the performance of a program somehow prearranged and 
decreed. 

202. Now the more we emphasize the doctrine of continuity, 
— of positive law, of orderly development, the more we empha- 
size the necessity of an ultimate end or purpose to be realized. 

Evolution may tell us nothing of what that end is, but it 
teaches, with most positive assurance, that the forces acting 
under law are evolving something that will be what those 
forces must produce and nothing else. 

203. This is all we could ask of evolution. It is all we want 
— the assurance that there is an end, — an ideal, a consummation 
"To which the whole creation moves.' ' We could not expect 
evolution to tell us what it shall be. We rejoice that evolu- 
tion says that it shall be. 

204. There is one point on which there is great danger of mis- 
understanding; that is on the relation of the individual to the 
race. 

In the history of man our view is restricted to the race as a 
whole. We think in general terms, such as environment, 
heredity, tribal custom, racial character, and often get lost in 
the fog of our own generalities, lose sight of the concrete facts 
of the matter, and forget that there is no such thing as environ- 
ment except the environment which environs an individual, no 
heredity except as some individual inherits something, no tribal 
custom except as individuals act, absolutely no consciousness but 
individual consciousness, no life but individual life. 

205. From the obvious analogies between the life of the indi- 
vidual and the continuance of certain relations which constitute 
a state, or nation, we drift into concepts of the life of the state, 
or the morality of a tribe that are utterly absurd. Can a tribe 
eat? can a tribe be angry? can a tribe be killed? — obviously only 
as its component members have such experiences can they be 



ii2 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

experienced at all. Social consciousness, tribal self, racial char- 
acteristics are figures of speech ; they belong to poetry, they have 
little place in science, none in philosophy and are the source of 
much confusion to the superficial mind. 

206. The effect of environment is very great, and the reaction 
of the individual on the environment formed by the conduct of 
other individuals is a most important factor in the evolution of 
character, and in the direction of conduct; and therefore so- 
cial progress, tribal conscience, and all such terms are very 
convenient for purposes of generalization but they cannot ex- 
press any concrete reality. One may speak of poisoning a whole 
community, but poison can affect nothing in the world but 
individual lives. We may speak of the moral sense of a race, 
or tribe or family, but we can locate such a sense nowhere but 
in the personal experience of individuals. 

207. Evolution of morals can be nothing more or less than the 
changes wrought in the personal characters of men by the devel- 
opment of higher powers of perception and judgment and taste, 
through the powers of the soul reacting on the environment of 
individuals. Such evolution may increase our knowledge of 
moral principles and give us clearer vision of truth, or lead to 
higher excellence, but it can no more change the standard of 
moral judgment, or affect the principles of ethics than it can 
alter mathematical principles, or modify the law of gravitation. 

SELF-REALIZATION 

208. The effort to define the ultimate standard by which good- 
ness may be measured has led to the adoption of various for- 
mula which may express, at least in a general way, the concept 
of such a standard. Such forms are necessarily general and 
vague and give little more than a hint, or suggestion, of their 
significance. "The greatest good of the greatest number" is 
the "pet phrase" of the Utilitarian School,; "the Categorical 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD H3 

Imperative" the favorite catchword of Intuitional. The most 
popular phrase of recent moralists is Self-realization. 

209. It is obviously very little, if anything, more than a form 
capable of being filled with any content one may put into the 
w T ord self. In itself it is almost as empty as the jesting assertion, 
"It will do you good, if, it helps you at all." But, while it is 
quite vague, it is a useful term to indicate the point of view 
from which to regard our question. 

210. It indicates that the standard of goodness is teleologicaL 
It has reference to some end to be reached — some purpose to be 
accomplished. It suggests the thought that there is something 
definite to be made real, which at present may be ideal — some- 
thing that may be built up according to the plans and specifica- 
tions formed in the imagination, — some present possibility that 
may become actual. 

211. It also indicates that the standard is Personal. It is a 
self that is to be realized. Self is individual, personal, and 
not a general concept, nor an abstraction. The best possible 
attainment for myself may differ from the best possible to you. 
Yet each may be the standard of goodness for us respectively. 
This does not imply conflict of principles, but only diversity 
of individual capacity and relations. One star differs from 
another star in glory, but all are glorious. 

212. And it suggests that the standard is Practical. It is to 
be applied to conduct. It is something to be realized by self, 
not merely in self — an ideal to be made actual by the effort of 
the soul itself. It is not the mere result of evolutionary forces 
acting on the soul, but self-directed progress, in a definite 
course, toward a definite end. 

213. And finally, it is Progressive. It is not a state to be 
received or adopted or put on as a garment ready made, but a 
condition to be achieved, cultivated, approached by stages, grad- 
ually. The self one may hope to realize should be better than 
any self that he can now imagine. It cannot be achieved by 



ii 4 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

the addition of features but the constant remodeling and ad- 
justing of the new to the old, purifying, enlarging and harmon- 
izing as our vision grows clearer, and our powers increase. 

214. This concept of the standard of moral judgment is per- 
haps the best that we can form. It is the latest result of 
ethical philosophy; and, like most new things, it is essentially 
what Aristotle taught some twenty-three centuries ago. 

215. Its statement has, however, been modified and the whole 
concept greatly influenced by the doctrine of evolution. It is, 
incidentally, a fine illustration of the unity and harmony of 
truth. Aristotle's line of approach is totally different from that 
of the modern evolutionist; yet, when they reach conclusions 
that are well established, we find they are essentially the same. 
We think of self-realization now in terms of evolutionary phil- 
osophy; putting emphasis on the idea of reaction to environ- 
ment, the principles of coordination and of continuity, and thus 
give a new dress to the ancient doctrine, which fits it to asso- 
ciate with modern ideas, and observe good form in its relations 
to current thought. 

216. On the whole, we have pretty well agreed that no form 
of Hedonism, nor any concept of mere law, can be accepted as 
an ultimate test of goodness, and that, in the very nature of 
the case, no complete and definite standard can be framed, or 
even adopted by man in his present stage of development. Nev- 
ertheless, we have approximated a definition, and discovered a 
good working hypothesis when we agree that the ultimate stand- 
ard must have the qualities indicated by the phase self-realiza- 
tion. It must be teleological, personal, practical and progres- 
sive. 

217. The filling out of this form with specific content is the 
task to which we must address ourselves with patience. Ex- 
perience and reflection, aided by whatever revelation may be 
vouchsafed to us, must be our guide ; and an increasing power 
to appreciate the excellence of virtue lead us to more perfect 



THEORIES OF ETHICAL STANDARD 115 

judgment of morality. 

218. The specific qualities which constitute subjective good- 
ness, and the activities which such goodness shall prompt and 
demand must ever be the objects of our most serious consider- 
ation. 

These we will consider under the names of virtues and du- 
ties ; the former signifying qualities of the soul — right affections, 
the latter denoting the course of conduct corresponding to 
right affections. 



BOOK III 

PERSONAL ETHICS 



\ 



CHAPTER I 



VIRTUE 



219. Virtue is moral soundness, or health of the soul. 

It is a state of mind, — the state of mind in which the moral 
sense, the judgment and the will act freely and with due force 
in harmony with the standard of right. 

Virtue is essentially the possession of right affections. To 
love the right things in the right degree, and in due proportion 
is to be virtuous. 

To be virtuous is to be in harmony with the universe of 
which we are a part; or, in other words, to be in loving sub- 
jection to the will of God. 

220. This definition of virtue is, on the whole, acceptable to 
the great moralists of all ages. Aristotle, Isaiah, St. Paul, J. 
S. Mill and Dr. Martineau would all consent to it in a general 
way, but they would differ widely in their exposition of its 
terms. 

221. The Greeks, especially Socrates, placed emphasis chiefly 
on reason and regarded virtue as dependent upon knowledge 
and good judgment, basing their concept of virtue on the thought 
that man is, above all else, a rational creature in a rational uni- 
verse, and therefore perfect knowledge would lead to right ap- 
preciation of moral values, and right desires would spring up 
as the fruit of right views. Thus they all tend to identify 
virtue with wisdom. The Hebrews, on the other hand, were 
much more deeply impressed with the emotional side of the 
soul, and perceived more clearly the innate tendency of man to 
follow the impulses of his passions, appetites and desires. Hence 
they put more emphasis on obedience as the chief feature of 
virtue. 

119 



iao THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

222. The Christian moralists have, of course, followed the 
Hebrew prophets and put the emphasis on obedience; but they 
substituted the idea of faith as a more profound expression than 
obedience. Faith is the acceptance of authority in place of rea- 
son. Faith does not imply the denial of reason, but accepts 
in place of immediate judgment the inference that certain things 
are so because one, who knows better than we can know, says 
they are so. All inference is defined as believing something to 
be true, because of its relation to something else which we be- 
lieve to be true. I believe my physician knows how to treat 
my disease better than I know; therefore I accept his judg- 
ment, and obey his orders. This is faith. 

223. The Christian moralists associate the concept of virtue 
very closely with faith because they believe that the problems of 
life are too vast and too complex for human reason to solve, 
and they also believe that God has at sundry times and in divers 
manners revealed truth that reason could not discover, nor even 
comprehend. Their conclusion is expressed in the words of 
Job, "Behold! the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to 
depart from evil is understanding." 

224. The influence of Greek philosophy has been constantly 
exerted on Christianity, and has been effective in broadening 
the views and humanizing the doctrines of the church by de- 
veloping the principles taught by the prophets and apostles, and 
defining their applications to the varied conditions of men and 
society. 

225. Recent ethical philosophy has been profoundly influenced 
by the doctrine of evolution, and has adopted many new forms 
of expression, of which the most popular at present is the term 
self-realization, which is used to express the modern concept of 
virtue. This term is perhaps the most significant index of cur- 
rent ethical philosophy. It expresses most fitly the vagueness 
of evolutionary ethics; and, at the same time, indicates the 
immensely important teaching of evolution, that there is a defi- 



VIRTUE 121 

nite plan in the universe, a program being executed, a continuity 
of human experience moving on to some definite and worthy 
end, realizing itself, and finding its excellence in that realization. 

226. It is evident that the difficulty with this concept of virtue 
is not with its form, but with its content. 

"To realize one's best self," "to live according to nature," 
"to fear the Lord and depart from evil," may all be accepted as 
good forms of sound words ; but they do not in themselves give 
any very definite direction to conduct, nor specify the qualities 
that characterize the virtuous life. 

227. The actual condition of mind that is properly called vir- 
tuous has been conceived in many and widely different ways. 
These conceptions of virtue can be compared and judged only 
by the careful study of the various qualities which form the 
actual content of the virtuous life as conceived by different 
moralists, or schools of ethics. 

We must also be on our guard against the ambiguity of terms, 
for the same word may denote widely different ideas as it is used 
in different ages, in different connections or by different writers. 

228. It is impossible to notice all varied views as to what 
constitutes a virtuous life, but we may profitably consider the 
chief divisions of opinion, and especially the different standards 
of judgment used in the efforts to form our ideal of virtue. 

229. First: we may observe that the difference between the 
varied ideals is due chiefly to the degree of emphasis placed on 
one or other of the qualities which all men agree should be pos- 
sessed by the virtuous man. For example, courage is one of 
the qualities demanded by practically all ideals of virtue. But 
with the Greeks and Romans it occupied the chief place of hon- 
or; it was preeminently the virtue. In the teaching of Jesus 
it occupied a very subordinate place, and the place of honor is 
assigned to meekness. 

Justice is universally recognized as a fundamental virtue, but, 
while the natural man makes justice the ground of his de- 



122 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

mands, the Christian willingly waives such demands in the in- 
terest of peace or benevolence, but admits the full claim of jus- 
tice against himself. 

Temperance, also a cardinal virtue of the Greeks and no 
less highly esteemed by the Christian, has greatly changed its 
significance. The Greek frankly loved the pleasures of life and 
sought by moderation to get the utmost satisfaction from the 
senses. 

The Christian has always looked with suspicion on all sensu- 
ous pleasure, and feared their seductive power to draw the soul 
away from higher excellence and more enduring joys. 

This difference of emphasis, this various appraisement of the 
virtues gives such variety of form to the ideals of virtue that 
they seem totally unlike, though they all find definition in the 
general form of self-realization. 

230. Second : the different concepts of virtue are differentiated 
by their teleological considerations. The dictum, that anything 
good must be good for something, is quite true if properly 
guarded, and our judgment of good character, or virtue, must 
not neglect the consideration of the ends and uses, the conse- 
quences and results of states of mind. 

We have refused to measure goodness by happiness, or even 
by utility in the narrow sense of producing results which seem 
beneficial to the individual or to mankind. But the relation 
between virtue and happiness, between ideal character and use- 
fulness is an extremely important consideration and must have 
great weight in our judgments of the contents of the virtuous 
life. 

231. These two elements, — emphasis and teleological aim, — 
are the most important differentiae which give such great variety 
to the concepts of virtue formed by different thinkers. 

They are not the only ones, but are perhaps sufficient to show 
the necessity of some definite standard for the measurement of 
virtues — qualities of excellence, before we can fill out our for- 



VIRTUE 123 

mal definition of virtue with a content that will really express 
an actual or conceivable state of the soul, and thus furnish 
a model to which we may strive to conform our lives. 
232. And this brings us to the consideration of Christian eth- 
ics as the most widely accepted, and completely elaborated system 
the world has ever known. 

In the presentation of Christian ethics we shall assume noth- 
ing as to its origin, or its claim to the sanction of divine 
authority, but present it solely on its merits as a definition of 
virtue, not in the abstract terms of formal definition but 
in the specific terms of a manual of conduct based on a clear 
conviction of man's relation to God and to his fellow man. 



CHAPTER II 

CHRISTIAN ETHICS 

232. The conclusions we are able to reach from the study of 
philosophy of conduct seem, at first sight, disappointing. 

We are able to define virtue as "self-realization," but this 
definition gives us form without content. It means nothing 
till we define the "self" which is to be realized; and this we 
have not yet been able to do. 

233. The conception of a perfect self — an ideal character — 
must somehow precede the realization of that concept. But the 
conception of an ideal character is possible only to one who has 
already realized such a character. The ability to appreciate the 
excellence and the beauty of the qualities which constitute char- 
acter is the very highest function of the soul. The nice dis- 
crimination of judgment required to discern the right degree 
and proportion of the various virtues and the proper harmony 
and concord of them all demands such clearness of vision, 
breadth of view, purity of affections and refinement of taste as 
transcends all human attainment, and may be regarded as 
ideally perfect character. 

Our concept of ideal character changes as we change, im- 
proves as we improve, and deteriorates as we decline in wisdom 
or virtue. 

234. But we are not shut up to the lame and impotent con- 
clusion that, because we can form no perfect ideal, we can have 
no useful concepts of virtue. "Self realization" is a rather 
empty phrase, but it serves as the form for a definition of virtue 
which may be filled with contents gathered from various sources. 

Partial knowledge may be extremely useful knowledge. We 
may see a great deal that is important, even though we sec 

124 



CHRISTIAN ETHICS 125 

in a glass darkly, and we may know much, even though we 
know only in part. 

If we seek a certain goal, but do not know where it is, it is 
something to learn the direction we must take. We may be 
unable to form an adequate ideal of the character we should 
realize, but it is something to know that it is in the direction 
of sincerity, of devotion to justice and the love of mercy. 

We find that living up to that which we perceive to be right, 
following the impulses that we have called the instincts of 
righteousness, and accepting as our rule of conduct the best dic- 
tates of our judgment we thereby clarify our vision, strengthen 
our conviction and ennoble our ideals. 

235. In this respect ethics is not peculiar, but is just like all 
the sciences which we call normative, which have for their chief 
object the discovery of the value or worth of things. They do 
not assume any existing models as perfect expressions of prin- 
ciples of true science, but strive rather to approach more and 
more nearly to perfection, and more and more perfectly to adapt 
their powers and resources to their changing needs. Such 
sciences as architecture, medicine or jurisprudence are, like 
ethics, engaged in the discovery and application of eternal prin- 
ciples to changing conditions. The field of art affords a still 
closer analogy with ethics. The perfect picture or the perfect 
poem has never been produced, and probably never will be, for 
each advance of art widens the horizon, and refines the taste, so 
that the ideal, — the ultimate aim, of the artist or poet seems 
farther away than it was before. It is just at this point that 
the office of the artist, the poet and the moralist may best be 
understood. It is they who, with deeper insight, clearer visions 
and finer taste than common men, perceive and reveal more per- 
fect beauty, sweeter hopes and nobler ideals. They reveal these 
ideals in words, or body them forth in marble or on canvas, 
and mankind, by slow degrees, appreciates them, and toils pain- 
fully toward their realization. Then another seer, standing on 



126 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

the vantage ground thus gained, sees a little further, frames a 
nobler ideal, and points the way to higher attainment. So the 
world makes progress. 

23554. Moralists, like Socrates, philosophers, like Plato, proph- 
ets, like Isaiah, each in their own field and from their peculiar 
point of view, have seen portions of truth with unwonted clear- 
ness, and have framed ideals of such marvelous beauty, such dig- 
nity and excellence, that they have commanded the admiration of 
the world. 

Then Jesus of Nazareth gave us an ideal, revealing to us, by 
his sweetly reasonable words and by his stainless life, the glorious 
excellence of a perfect humanity. 

236. We are not here concerned with the questions of his na- 
ture, — whether he was divine, or in what his person differed 
from the personality of other men ; we are concerned only with 
the fact that he gave us by far the most dignified and beautiful 
life that has even been lived in the world. In the words of Mr. 
Lecky, "It remained for Jesus of Nazareth to show to the world 
an ideal character, the influence of whose life and teaching has 
done more to elevate humanity and sweeten life than all the 
disquisitions of philosophers and the exhortations of moralists 
since the world began.' ' 

237. It is the teaching of Jesus, — the ideal life which he com- 
mended to us by his gracious words and beautiful example, 
that we call Christian morals. It supplies the content for the 
formal phrase, self-realization. It defines the self that is to be 
realized. It gives the actual qualities which characterize the 
perfect manhood that we seek. It gives concrete form to the 
general teaching of philosophy. 

There is no rivalry or opposition between philosophic ethics 
and Christian ethics. There cannot be any conflict between dif- 
ferent revelations of truth ; and philosophy and Christianity are 
but different forms of revelation, neither of them creates, but 
both discover and make known that which is and has been from 



CHRISTIAN ETHICS 127 

the beginning. The mystery of the atonement and the blessed 
influence of the Holy Spirit are facts that belong to another 
realm. They are gracious means to the restoration of a fallen 
race. They are remedies for a diseased condition. They be- 
long to the department of moral pathology; but the ethics of 
Jesus Christ rest on the same foundation that philosophy finds 
for its teaching, which is the constitution of the human soul. 
The principles of all morality, like the principles of physics or 
chemistry or psychology, date from creation. They are what 
they are because man is what he is; and, if we inquire further 
why man is what he is, we can only say God made him so ; and 
perhaps may add God made him what he is because God is what 
he is ; which is to say that the ultimate ground of all morality 
is the nature of God, for we can only suppose that God's will is 
the consistent expression of his character or being. 
238. And we conclude that self-realization is the realization 
of that ideal which God formed for man in the beginning. 
Man's apprehension of that ideal is a long and tedious process. 
Through unnumbered centuries he has struggled with the forces 
of his nature and environment, reaching first the instinct of 
morality in the form of a protesting emotion against evil, so 
vividly represented in the story of the Garden of Eden ; where 
Eve, before she reached the stage of moral perception, — knowl- 
edge of good and evil, — was conscious of this instinctive protest, 
and answered the tempter with the significant assertion, "God 
has said thou shalt not." 

All through the dolorous ages, with their misery and sin, de- 
feats and victories, man has come with painful steps to clearer 
light and sweeter hopes, never satisfied with present attainment, 
never content to rest in what he feels to be an incomplete de- 
velopment, but, reaching forth to that which is before, he presses 
on to that vague goal of realizing his highest self. 

The great contribution of Jesus Christ to the philosophy of 
life was the definition of that self. He brought life and immor- 



128 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

tality to light, and made the dim instinctive yearning of the 
soul a definite aim and a blessed hope. 

239. It must be remembered that the essential purpose of the 
mission of Jesus, as it has been interpreted by his followers was 
redemptive, not merely instructive. He came to seek and to 
save the lost, to provide, — not merely to point out, a way by 
which the souls of men may be restored from hopeless disorder 
and disease to spiritual health. The very essence of Christianity 
is that "God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself. ,, 
This matter belongs to Theology, and is too far from our pres- 
ent purpose to be considered here. 

We are here concerned only with his ethical instruction, in- 
cluding his redemptive work only so far as that may throw light 
on his conception of virtue and duty. 

It is not surprising therefore that many of those who deny 
his divine nature, and refuse to accept the church's doctrine of 
his atonement, his resurrection, or his present work by the Holy 
Spirit, are nevertheless profoundly impressed by the clarity and 
truth of his ethical teaching. Indeed some of the very best ap- 
preciations of his moral excellence, and the eternal verity of his 
ethics have been written by Jews and Unitarians who utterly 
deny his divinity, or the supernatural quality of his work. 

240. It is a matter of frequent remark, and the occasion of 
some surprise, that the conception of the virtues and duties 
taught by Jesus differs so little from that of Confucius, or So- 
crates, or any of the great moralists whom we call, rather dis- 
respectfully, heathen But it is really not at all strange that 
this should be so, but on the contrary just what we should ex- 
pect when we consider that the principles of ethics are eternal, 
and have their permanent basis in an order that is revealed by 
our instincts and in harmony with our reason. Indeed the 
teaching of the apostles of Jesus is explicit on this point. "They 
that have not the law — revelation — are a law unto themselves, 
their conscionce bearing them witness and their thoughts also 



CHRISTIAN ETHICS 129 

accusing or excusing them." 

The moral precepts of Jesus may nearly all be matched by the 
teachings of Socrates or Confucius or the Stoics, exhorting us 
to the cultivation of the same virtues and the performance of 
the same duties. 

241. Nevertheless, there are certain features of the ethics of 
Jesus that put it in a different class entirely from that of the 
ethics of any other teacher. 

First; his teaching is much more comprehensive and com- 
plete than that of any other teacher. While most of his pre- 
cepts of duty may be paralleled by a quotation from one or 
another of the great moralists, there is nowhere a system of 
morality that can for a moment be compared with his. 

Second ; the teaching of Jesus is pure, it does not have to 
be sifted and expurgated, as the teaching of all others must be. 
It finds response in our instincts and judgment, and the experi- 
ence of nineteen centuries has confirmed its truth and wisdom. 

Third ; but by far the most important distinction of Christian 
ethics is the basis on which it rests. The conception of man's 
relation to God and to his fellow men which Jesus taught as the 
basis of his system is very different from that of Confucius or 
the Greeks. So far as we know, Confucius had no definite the- 
olgy; his ethics is based entirely on the moral instincts and judg- 
ment, and does not seem to have embraced any theory or doc- 
trine as to the origin or authority of these indications of duty. 
The Greeks began their teaching of morals while they still be- 
lieved in a lot of gods to whom tradition ascribed the grossest 
immoralities; cruelty and falsehood and lust were freely prac- 
tised by them, yet they were the rulers of heaven and earth. No 
moral order could be conceived of under such conditions; and, 
in fact, it was the more perfect insight in the principles of ethics 
that led the philosophers first to doubt and then deny the poly- 
theism of the ancients, and to substitute in its place a system of 
poetic concepts in which the names of the gods came to signify 



130 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

certain personified forces of nature, or principles of moral law. 
Only when they had advanced to such a stage that they were 
able to construct any consistent system of ethics. And, in fact, 
they never did get beyond the stage of vague and partial specu- 
lation on the subject. 

242. Jesus, was himself, the culmination of a remarkable line 
of ethical teachers, the Hebrew prophets, who had for some 
twenty centuries constantly and consistently preached the unity 
and omnipotence and holiness of God. 

He came therefore to a people whose conception of the order 
of the world was clear and confident. His teaching of ethics 
was based on the assumption that all things are under the abso- 
lute dominion of a divine creator, who rules the world with jus- 
tice and with love, "whose thoughts are higher than our thoughts 
and his ways higher than our ways even as the heavens are higher 
than the earth," and yet so immanent in his creation that "in 
him we live and move and have our being." 

This conception of the relation of all things to the creator is 
the basis and the norm of all his teaching of ethics. To him 
the order of the universe is not a mechanical arrangement depen- 
dent on impersonal law, but a free and understanding provi- 
dence; uniform, because God is immutable; benevolent, because 
God is kind, and harmonious, because God is supreme. 

243. This conception of the origin and nature of the world 
order is the basis for the fundamental law of virtue. "Thou 
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and soul and 
strength and mind." That is, not only the cordial acceptance 
of the order of things thus established, but also the willing sub- 
jection of our affections to the divine ruler, who is to all his 
creatures as a father to his children. All duty is determined by 
this relation. All men are brethren, for one is our father, even 
God. All our talents and opportunities are the assignments of 
a wise and loving father for the discipline and development of 
his children. 



CHRISTIAN ETHICS 131 

It is this conception of our relation to God that distinguishes 
Christian ethics from all other ethical teaching. 

As the astronomy of the ancients found much that was true 
concerning the stars and their courses, much that stands un- 
changed down to the present day, yet they could have no consis- 
tent system of astronomy so long as they regarded the earth as 
the center of the universe, because it is not the center. So there 
is no possibility of a right conception of virtue and duty till we 
find the center of the moral order. 

Christianity has no new scheme of morals to be imposed upon 
the world, as a new constitution may be devised for a state ; but 
it has a revelation, an illumination of the eternal verities on 
which the world is framed. 

244. The ethical teaching of Jesus is so far in advance of all 
other teaching that there is really no comparison between them. 
The enthusiastic words of Dr. A. B. Bruce are not too strong 
to express its scientific value. "It satisfied alike the heart, con- 
science, and reason. It satisfied the heart by offering to faith 
a God whose nature is paternal, and whose providential action 
has for its supreme characteristic benignancy. It satisfied the 
conscience by ignoring no dark facts in the world's history; 
by looking moral evil straight in the face; and by recognizing 
frankly the punitive action of the moral order. 

It satisfied reason by avoiding abstract antithesis between 
providential action and natural law, by viewing that action as 
immanent and constant rather than transcendent and occasional 
— pervading the course of nature and working through it, rather 
than interrupting it by supernatural incursions. Its rationality 
is further revealed by its unreserved acceptance of growth, pro- 
gress, as the law of the spiritual, not less than of the natural 
world. 

In this respect the modern evolutionary philosophy, far from 
superceding the teaching of Christ, only tends to illustrate its 
wisdom, and helps us to a better understanding of its meaning." 



CHAPTER III 



MORAL PATHOLOGY 



245. We have defined virtue as the possession of right affec- 
tions. To love the right things in the right degree and right 
proportion is to be virtuous. It is conceivable that man might 
have been so constituted that such virtue would have been his 
natural state. If he had been so constituted he would have 
been innocent, for he would have no motive to do wrong. 

246. But it may be doubted whether he could be positively 
good without the liability to choose the evil instead of the good. 
It is certain that we do not pay the tribute of admiration to 
the man who does right because he has no desire to do the 
wrong, that we pay to the man who does right in spite of 
intense passions urging him to do the wrong. The discipline 
of self-denial, of struggle and contest with opposing forces is the 
chief means of achieving moral excellence. "What sort of 
man," asks Epictetus — "would Hercules have been had there not 
been unrighteous savage men to fight with, living hydras, or 
wild boars to drive out of the world?" 

This may be the explanation of the fact that in the constitu- 
tion of the world we find virtue to be not our natural endow- 
ment, but a prize to be won, a state to be acquired by slow de- 
grees and painful effort. 

247. At all events such is the fact. Virtue is not a gift but 
an achievement, and the cultivation of virtue is the great con- 
cern of every man on earth. 

248. "Goodness is virtue in the making," says D'Arcy. "Good- 
ness is the effort to be better, continually exerted in the strug- 
gle of life. It involves the looking up to a good that is over- 
head and a constant striving to attain it." Whether we accept 

132 



MORAL PATHOLOGY 133 

this distinction between virtue and goodness or not, there is a 
difference, and a most important difference, between the pos- 
session of right affections and the striving after right conduct in 
the midst of conflicting and bewildering desires. 

249. The psychology of self-denial is perplexing. On the one 
hand we must admit the force of motives. We cannot deny 
that we choose one course of conduct rather than another 
because of something. Some motive moves our will or it would 
never move — no act would be performed, no choice made. How, 
then, are these motives made effective ? How are the values of 
incentives measured? Can the soul, somehow, by an effort of 
its own, choose to admit the motive force of one desire and shut 
out another? These are questions old as philosophy, never 
clearly answered but never giving any practical difficulty or 
embarrassing our actions. In the presence of conflicting desires 
we do choose, and feel that we could have chosen otherwise. 
We choose to gratify a desire which we know is neither wise 
nor good, and suffer remorse because we doubt not that we 
could and should have chosen otherwise. 

Whatever psychology may make of the problem of the free- 
dom of the will, ethics must accept the fact that man can choose 
his course of action, and that he can and should so choose that 
each choice shall make the next choice easier and more perfectly 
conformed to virtue. 

250. If we began life morally sound and healthy, ethical cul- 
ture would be comparatively simple. It would consist in the 
recognition and appreciation of the moral qualities of conduct, 
and the spontaneous choice of such courses as we judged to be 
the most conformable to the standard of right. 

But, unhappily, we do not begin life with an unbiased mind, 
but with a soul corrupted by hereditary taints of evil. The 
mistakes and faults and evil choices of innumerable ancestors 
formed habits, defects and disordered states which have become 
constitutional in our race. As physical defects and taints of 



134 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

blood handicap and pervert our bodily life, so the moral deprav- 
ity of the race is the sad inheritance of every child born into the 
world. The doctrine of imputation may be debated, and "orig- 
inal sin" may be defined in various ways, but the fact of moral 
imperfection is obvious and undeniable. Whether we attribute 
it to the "guilt of Adam's first sin" or to some other cause is of 
no consequence here, the existing condition must be recognized 
and reckoned with if we are to deal intelligently with the ques- 
tion of moral culture. 

251. Of course, it is possible to exaggerate and over-state the 
case. The phrase "total depravity" is often misunderstood as 
though it meant that man is as bad as possible. It never meant 
that in the mouth of intelligent speakers, but rather that the 
whole race was morally unsound and this unsoundness affected 
every faculty and function of the soul. And this indictment 
is certainly proved by history and observation and experience. 

252. Now since this is so, ethical culture is first of all a matter 
of pathology, — a work of healing a disordered condition of the 
soul. The regimen suitable for the soul in health, may be unwise 
and useless for the soul diseased, and all our prescriptions must 
be determined by the conditions actually found. 

253. It is at this point that the Christian doctrine of Redemp- 
tion applies to the moral restoration of the soul. 

That doctrine is essentially just this, that man is of himself 
unable to change his affections, and without divine help he can- 
not recover from the state of disorder and corruption into which 
the whole race has fallen; not because he cannot do the right, 
but because he cannot choose it, cannot love the right things. 
The affections being the springs of action, — the motive powers 
of the soul, when they are perverted and misdirected, there is 
no remedy; because the very source of right direction is de- 
stroyed. 

But God, in his love and mercy, sent his son to take our 
nature, and by his death atone for our sins ; and by the influence 



MORAL PATHOLOGY 135 

of his Spirit He enlightens our minds, turns our affections to 
their proper objects and renews our will, so that we can love 
righteousness and grow more and more into moral health, — 
which is holiness. Such is the teaching of the Christian Church. 
Its bearing on ethics is apparent; it gives a point of view that is 
radically different from any that philosophy alone can furnish; 
and it is based not on philosophy or theology, but on facts. It 
makes its appeal to history, and stakes its faith on the evidence 
of things done in the sight and hearing of men competent to tes- 
tify to what they saw and heard, and on the concurrent testi- 
mony of innumerable multitudes who have experienced the trans- 
forming power of His Spirit in their lives. 

254. But the doctrine of redemption is logically subordinate 
to the work of cultivating virtue. Redemption and the trans- 
forming power of the Holy Spirit are the means by which the 
ends of moral culture are accomplished. 

After all, each man must work out his own salvation, — must 
so use and develop his own moral powers that he shall come to 
love the right things; and rightly loving, he will rightly live. 
However he may receive the power, and however the opportun- 
ity of return to holiness may come, he must choose his own path 
and guide his own feet. 

255. As in the restoration of bodily health, we may not wait 
till full strength is recovered before we begin to develop what 
we have, but rather use each increment of strength to the acquisi- 
tion of more by proper exercise. Indeed the most fundamental 
law of growth is exercise; and every talent may be increased by 
proper use, or extirpated by neglect. So in moral culture, our 
conduct rightly guided is the most effective means of developing 
right affections. As in walking? we advance by putting one foot 
forward and then resting on that one while the other is advanc- 
ed; so by the practice of virtue we increase our devotion to 
virtue, and our increased devotion enables us to improve our 
practice. 



136 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

256. It is not possible for us to change our affections by mere 
effort of the will. We cannot by simple resolution change our 
love of evil to the love of good. No matter how fully per- 
suaded we may be that we should love our neighbor and find joy 
in promoting his welfare, we do not love him, and we do not 
rejoice in his prosperity when it clashes with our own. Yet by 
patient exercise of kindly sympathy we come to find real joy in 
his prosperity even at the cost of our own. 

257. It is not uncommon to have the soul so powerfully in- 
fluenced by some new view of truth, or some extraordinary stim- 
ulation of the emotions that the affections are suddenly revo- 
lutionized, and the soul "converted." This effect is mostly due 
to the awaking of our religious affections and is, no doubt, due 
in part to the direct influence of the divine spirit. But the 
more common experience is the gradual correction, or reform 
of the affections by enlightening our understanding, and culti- 
vating our moral sensibility and taste. In this more gradual 
process the change is no less radical, and is likely to be more 
permanent; and the influence of God's spirit no less real, though 
it seems to be exercised by the more ordinary means and chan- 
nels. And however dependent we may be upon the divine 
influence to initiate a radical revolution of our affections, and 
to begin a new process of development of moral power and 
health, the continuation of this process, the cultivation of right 
affections, is a work accomplished by the use of means suit- 
able to the end to be accomplished. 



CHAPTER IV 



REMORSE 



258. Remorse has been defined as "the power conscience has 
to make itself a nuisance. ,, 

That is a rather flippant definition of so serious a matter, — * 
for remorse is the most serious matter in the world — but it 
serves to put the emphasis on the important feature. Remorse 
is the mental distress that follows as the consequence of disobedi- 
ence to our sense of duty, or what we commonly call the dictates 
of conscience. 

We have already noticed it as one of the functions of the 
soul which we group under the term conscience; but it is so 
important as to call for somewhat fuller consideration. 

259. There is nothing in ethical phenomena — nothing indeed 
in human experience, that is more remarkable or more important 
than remorse. It is literally the "after-bite" — re mordeo — of 
conscience. It is the punishment, executed by the mind itself, 
for every offense against its own commands. 

There is something peculiarly terrible in the fact that the 
mind is, by its very nature, its own judge and executioner. 
Remorse is the true Nemesis, pursuing every rational offender 
with unrelenting vengeance so long as memory endures. 

260. The psychology of remorse is simple enough, though very 
remarkable. It is one of the constitutional functions of the 
mind to experience painful emotions whenever memory presents 
to consciousness the facts of violated moral law. 

261. It is entirely personal, and differs radically from the feel- 
ing of indignation that we experience in view of another's 
wrongdoing; though it implies some of the same feeling of con- 
tempt for the wrongdoer. 

137 



138 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

262. It is grounded entirely on the offence of the will — the 
badness of the purpose. The consequences of the act are not 
considered, except so far as they indicate the purpose of the 
mind, or serve to remind us of the responsibility we bear for 
our conduct. It is not placated by the fact that our evil pur- 
pose failed of its accomplishment. If I attempt to injure my 
neighbor by slander, I am not saved from remorse by the fact 
that I was not believed, and therefore no actual damage was 
done. Remorse illustrates the principle that he that hateth his 
brother is a murderer. 

263. Perhaps the most remarkable feature of remorse is its 
implacable character. No matter how intense or prolonged my 
suffering may be it does not seem to atone for my guilt; the 
lash of the offended conscience is still laid on with undiminished 
force, so long as memory presents the offense to consciousness. 
The only relief seems to come through the fading of memory, 
and this relief is slight and uncertain, for the distressing emotion 
deepens the impression, and aids the memory. 

The only expiation that is of any use is restitution, and this 
secures nothing more than a certain mitigation of the distress. 
If I have stolen, I may restore four fold and thus ease my con- 
science, but I do not wholly relieve it. I still have the humili- 
ating sense of being a thief. Moreover in the great majority 
of cases no restitution is possible: that which is done is done. 
It has started a series of events which no power can stop, which 
can rarely be counteracted or controlled. 

264. Another remarkable feature of remorse is the fact that 
the more sensitive our conscience is the more keenly we suffer. 
This however seems right and proper when we consider that 
the more senstive our conscience the greater is our offense in dis- 
obeying it. We do not judge the ignorant and brutish man by 
the same standard as we apply to the intelligent and cultivated. 
Remorse seems to recognize this principle. "He that knew his 
master's will and did it not is beaten with many stripes, and he 



REMORSE 139 

that knew it not and did it not is beaten with few stripes." 

265. It should be noticed also that the dull discomfort pro- 
duced by the sluggish conscience may be more dreadful than the 
keen anguish of the sensitive soul; for, while its distress may 
not be so poignant, it may deprave the soul more deeply by its 
sullen fire. 

266. The teleological purpose of remorse seems evident. It 
is the strongest possible influence to promote right conduct. It 
is the supreme sanction of morality. It destroys happiness, 
causes shame and quenches hope. It is the very fire of hell. It 
is the sharp admonition to repentance and reform. As physical 
pain warns of danger and impels to means of safety or relief, so 
remorse is the rod of correction to turn us back from wickedness. 

267. No other phase of moral law seems to testify so clearly 
to the presence of an intelligent purpose in the constitution of 
the soul ; for on no other supposition are we able to account for 
these phenomena save on the assumption of a beneficent pur- 
pose in the mind of the creator. 

268. Our attempts to account for man's present state on the 
principles of evolution have here their greatest difficulty, and 
the strongest grounds for the conviction that, not only behind 
all the laws of evolution, but in and through all nature there is 
an immanent intelligence constantly at work directing all ac- 
tivity to definite and worthy ends. 

269. The proper fruit of remorse is repentance ; but repentance 
does not follow remorse as an immediate effect. Repentance 
is the act of the soul admonished by remorse, disciplined by suf- 
fering and thus led to reconsider its course. Repentance involves 
a change of attitude toward our own conduct, and impels to 
reformation. 

One may suffer intensely from the memory of evil done, and 
yet harden his heart to go on in evil ways. He may see the 
folly of his course and yet have no purpose to change it; this 
is remorse. But when this distress leads to a sense of shame and 



i 4 o THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

a desire to undo the evil, — a purpose to cease to do evil and learn 
to do well ; this is repentance. It is the first step toward virtue. 
It will manifest itself in "works meet for repentance," and lead 
to newness of life. 



CHAPTER V 



THE CONTENTS OF VIRTUE 



270. Language is at best a very imperfect means of expression. 
With all its enormous host of words, and all its elaborate system 
of grammar to express the various relations of number and de- 
gree and time, etc., we still find it necessary to use the same 
word in several different senses, and are never quite sure that 
the term used will mean to the hearer just what we intend to 
express. 

We have already been embarrassed by the ambiguity of the 
words conscience, motive, purpose, intention, and others. 

Now we have no good terms to denote the qualities of soul 
which taken all together are called virtue. 

The best w r e can do is to denote these qualities as virtues; 
bearing in mind that virtues is not the plural of virtue, but the 
specific qualities of the soul which is virtuous. Virtue has been 
defined as that state of the soul in which the moral sense, the 
judgment and the will act freely and with due force in harmony 
with the standard of right. 

271. We must now consider what are the features of such a 
state, — and inquire what are the specific virtues which consti- 
tute such a condition. 

The forming of such a concept is the work of the imagination 
directed by the moral sense and judgment. The result is called 
an ideal. 

272. Such ideals must conform to the eternal principles or 
laws of the universe ; that is to say, that they must be true, rea- 
sonable and capable of being realized. No mason can lay two 
bricks in the same place at the same time, nor build a wall upon 
the empty air, and the architect who calls for such performance 

141 



142 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

would be called a fool. No less foolish is the man who frames 
ideals that ignore or contradict the laws of our moral nature. 
" Grapes do not grow on thorns nor figs on thistles." 

273. Moreover, ideals must conform to the individual power 
and capacity of him who seeks to realize them ; therefore no ideal 
is good in general : it is good only for the individual for whom 
it is proposed. 

Nevertheless, there are some features — some virtues — which 
must be present in every right ideal, and the proper appreciation 
of these features is the first step in the planning of true ideals. 
In every work of art there are certain qualities that must be 
present, such as harmony, proportion and grace. So in virtue 
there must be in every case certain specific virtues, and the 
excellence of our ideals will depend chiefly on the due propor- 
tions and relations of these several virtues to meet the demands 
of our particular place and circumstances. 

274. The consideration of these virtues and the appreciation 
of their value and relations has occupied the attention of phil- 
osophers and moralists in all ages. The different estimates that 
have been placed on different virtues are due, in part, to the 
different points of view, from which they are regarded, but, in 
larger degree, to the different meanings attached to the various 
terms used to denote them. In judging the views of any writer on 
the subject of virtues, we should be very careful to ascertain just 
what he means by the words he uses. 

275. In all ages there are a few virtues which are recognized 
as being of such special importance, so fundamental to all virtue, 
that they are regarded as a class by themselves. 

The ancient Greeks generally agree in putting wisdom, cour- 
age, temperance and justice as the chief features of virtue. These 
are sometimes called cardinal virtues — cardo, a hinge,— as those 
on which all other virtues hinge or depend. 

276. In order to judge of this classification, we must, first, 
make sure of the meaning intended by each term. This may 



THE CONTENTS OF VIRTUE 143 

be fairly secured by study of synonyms. 

By Justice they meant righteousness, — fairness in all relations. 
It included equity, and even benevolence, since good-will is due 
to every man from every other. 

Courage included fortitude, and perhaps patience. Temper- 
ance meant self-control, moderation of feeling as well as restraint 
of action. Wisdom signified prudence, practical adjustment of 
conduct to circumstances, and the just appreciation of conflicting 
desires. 

It is evidently possible to extend this list as Plato gives it so 
as to embrace in a general way all, or nearly all, of the qualities 
of virtue, — they may be attached to these great hinges and 
shown to depend on them. 

It is possible to go even further, and include them all under 
one head, such as wisdom or temperance. This only demon- 
strates the truth that the whole of virtue is a unit, and each 
separate quality is a manifestation of the same essential state of 
the soul. 

277. The difference between the various attempts to classify 
the virtues will be found to consist, not so much in the list of 
virtues included as in their relative importance. It is not so 
much a problem of analysis as of appreciation. All men would 
include justice as an essential feature of virtue, but would not 
all agree as to the relative claims of rights and mercy. 

Shylock's claim was strictly within his rights of contract — 
clearly "nominated in the bond," but mercy also pleads her 
claim as part of justice, — a part of what was due in the circum- 
stances. 

278. It is in this distribution of emphasis, this appreciation of 
the force and value of the different virtues that modern ethics 
differs most from the ancient. We recognize the general cor- 
rectness of the Greek classification, but the Hebrew, and espec- 
ially the Christian concept of virtue puts some virtues in the 
foreground which the Greeks regarded lightly, and modifies the 



144 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

conception of others almost beyond recognition. This difference 
is most marked in those virtues which we call passive, or for- 
bearing. 

279. It would be difficult to find a place in the Greek scheme 
of virtue for such a precept as that of Jesus when he bids us 
turn the other cheek to the smiter, or go the second mile to 
accommodate the man who has already unjustly compelled us to 
go one. And yet there is no inconsistency in this teaching; wis- 
dom — prudence — dictates the conduct that in the long run 
makes for the best adjustment of self to environment; and the 
declaration that the meek shall inherit the earth is fulfilled every 
day, to the wonder of the world. 

280. In order to have a fair evaluation of the contents of 
virtue, it is necessary to consider carefully the real character of 
the various virtues, to get behind mere names, and form clear 
concepts of them and their relations to one another. 

281. We shall probably get these in their truest perspective by 
considering, first; that which the Greeks called temperance, but 
which we are rather accustomed to call self-control. This is to 
be conceived of as the ability to direct our conduct according to 
reason or good judgment. All conduct springs from desire; 
everything that we do as rational beings is for the satisfaction of 
some desire. Because of the impulse exerted by desire, we form 
purposes, by selecting that desire which we will gratify; and 
these purposes become the end or object to which our efforts are 
exerted. 

282. All desires that are natural are innocent. They are with- 
out moral quality of any kind. Hunger, or curiosity, or emula- 
tion, spring from the very constitution of the body or the mind, 
and, not being due to our will, cannot be regarded as conduct, 
or viewed as subjects of moral judgment. But our present state 
of mind is very largely the product of our past conduct; every 
act of the will has its reflex influence on our character so that 
the choice of the objects of desire is largely determined by the 



THE CONTENTS OF VIRTUE 145 

affections we have developed for ourselves, and the moral quality 
of my conduct will depend on my love for the right things. 

If I steal my neighbor's chickens to satisfy my hunger, my 
offense lies, not in my desire for food, but in my preference of 
my own bodily comfort to my moral integrity and the rights of 
my neighbor. 

283. Every rational act is the result of a choice among desires. 
It involves a preference of one course of conduct rather than 
another, and the virtue of self-control consists in the ability and 
willingness to act according to the dictates of reason, rather 
than from the impulse of present desire. The choice between 
right and wrong is apt to involve a struggle between the various 
desires presented to consciousness by the different wants of the 
body and soul, and the ability to resist the pressure of passion 
and appetite and all undue demands of our instincts, and to bring 
all their claims impartially before the bar of reason, and to 
decide what shall be done is certainly the most fundamental of 
all the qualities that go to make up the content of the concept 
of virtue. 

284. The conflict which occurs in almost every case of volition 
between the clashing desires of the mind, and the importance of 
that self-control which can wisely judge and strongly execute its 
decisions can hardly be overestimated. No other virtue can be 
substituted for it. Keenness of moral perception, strong instincts 
of righteousness, and clear moral judgment — all that we call 
conscience, makes the work of self-control somewhat more easy, 
but they cannot take its place. Men with good conscience, but 
with what we call weak will, are only too common; and are 
objects of our pity, because they suffer such remorse yet seem 
unable to reform. 

285. But the difficulty of attaining to this virtue is not confined 
to any class or group of men. It is the universal conflict waged 
in every soul, and that incessantly. Paul confessed it in the 
words, "When I would do good evil is present with me so that 



146 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

the good I would do I do not and the evil that I would not that 
I do." And every man suffers from remorse, because at times 
he "knew the right and approved it, and yet followed the 
wrong." 

It is here that we see the beneficent office of remorse ; in that 
it urges us by its terrible lash to the exercise of self-control. 

JUSTICE, MERCY AND REVERENCE 

286. We have discussed the virtue of self-control apart from 
the other virtues, because it seems to be of a somewhat different 
order from the rest, and to stand more closely related to the very 
essence of virtue. 

287. There are three other virtues that may well be called 
cardinal, for on them depend most if not all the others. We 
have chosen the terms Justice, Mercy and Reverence as express- 
ing them in their most general aspects. 

288. There is, in the book of the Prophet Micah, a little poetic 
drama, in which he represents a controversy between God and 
man on the subject of man's duty. The drama represents the 
controversy as argued out before the mountains which sit as 
judges in the matter. 

The case is briefly stated, and the mountains deliver their 
decision in the words, "He hath showed thee O Man what is 
good : and what doth the Lord require of thee but to do justice, 
to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God?" 

This is one of the magnificent things in ancient literature. 
It is artistic in the highest degree. The majestic mountains, in 
their spotless ermine of eternal snow, most fitly represent the 
fixed and everlasting principles of moral law. Their judgment 
is delivered, not as the arbitrary will of the sovereign, not as a 
demand he chose to make, but as the laws incorporated in the 
very constitution of the world. In other words this is the 
prophet's conception of philosophic ethics, the judgment he found 



THE CONTENTS OF VIRTUE 147 

expressed by "the mountains and the strong foundations of the 
earth. " It consists of two Philosophic propositions; first, man is 
able to know his duty. — "He hath showed thee, O man, what is 
good." Second, all duty is based in these three virtues, justice, 
mercy and reverence. 

289. This testimony of a Hebrew prophet is not only interest- 
ing and impressive in itself, but is especially interesting in com- 
parison with the teaching of Plato and the other Greeks, as 
showing how the great thinkers of different civilizations, and 
widely separated ages, arrived at much the same conclusions 
with regard to matters which are not only profound and compli- 
cated, but concerning which we are often told, even to this day, 
that they are grounded on nothing more stable than the dictates 
of convenience, or the manners and customs which men have 
chosen to adopt. 

290. The exorbitant demagoguery that would have all things 
determined by popular votes, and the narrow conservatism that 
would apply the specific rules of an obsolete social condition to 
present times, are both rebuked by history, which gives us such 
clear definitions of principles that change not, but find their 
application in the ever changing circumstances of mankind. 

291. It may not be possible for us to reach such a state of wis- 
dom and right affections that our tastes and judgment shall be 
so perfectly attuned to our environment, that we shall choose the 
right without an effort, and judge all moral problems with infal- 
lible accuracy; but we may at least enlighten our understanding, 
clarify our vision, and widen our horizon, so that our apprecia- 
tion of moral excellence shall be finer and more just. By the aid 
of experience and reflection, by the instruction of prophets and 
poets and philosophers, we may gain deeper insight into the prin- 
ciples which underlie all ethical phenomena. 

By careful study of the elements of virtue, — the specific vir- 
tues, we shall advance in wisdom, and increase our capacity for 
the enjoyment of moral beauty. We shall also find abundant com- 



148 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

pensation for such study in the interest aroused, and the stimu- 
lus given to the mind in the pursuit of virtue. 

292. Justice, as a virtue, may be defined as the proper attitude 
of mind toward the rights of ourselves and others. 

293. Rights is a term of great significance, since it denotes the 
very foundation on which all the claims of justice rest, and by 
which those claims must be defined and measured. Rights may 
be conceived of as the properties, privileges and liberties assigned 
to each being in the constitution of the universe. Life, liberty 
and the pursuit of happiness are examples of what we call per- 
sonal rights. They are part of the domain which belongs to each 
person in the established order of the world — part of the heri- 
tage that falls to us in the scheme of things which we call nature. 
The virtue of justice is the proper respect for this order or 
scheme of things, and has relation to our own rights as well as 
the rights of others. 

294. This attitude of mind will manifest itself in a variety 
of ways. Proper respect for our neighbor's rights will influence 
our attitude of mind toward him ; first, negatively, in forestalling 
all covetous desire to encroach upon his rights for our own 
advantage, and all emotion of jealousy because his inheritance 
seems more abundant than ours; this is the basis of honesty. Sec- 
ond, positively, in affording us satisfaction and joy in his welfare, 
and in prompting us to active effort for the maintenance of his 
rights. This is the virtue of benevolence. 

295. The active duties corresponding to this virtue will be con- 
sidered in their proper place, but as a virtue justice is most per- 
fectly defined in the precept, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as 
thyself." 

296. Mercy is the attitude of forbearance toward an offender. 
It is the voluntary surrender of some portion of one's rights out 
of compassion for another. 

It finds its occasion in the pathological condition of man's 
moral nature, If all men were just, there would be no occa- 



THE CONTENTS OF VIRTUE 149 

sion for mercy. If each soul was independent of all others, so 
that each suffered only the immediate effects of his own action, 
the function of mercy would be much less extensive than it is. 
The whole race is so bound up together, the sins and mistakes of 
the fathers so largely visited upon the children, and the mistakes 
of today so embarrassing tomorrow, that the demands of justice 
strictly enforced would work unspeakable misery. Every man is 
morally bankrupt; if forced to judgment he could not answer — 
satisfy the demands — for one of a thousand of his transgressions. 
Mercy is the absolution of penalty, the renunciation of the 
claims of one against another. 

297. Virtue, as a state of soul perfection, demands the quality 
of mercy just as positively as it demands the quality of justice; 
but, since the acts of mercy are of the nature of a gift, a grat- 
uitous surrender of some portion of one's rights, it seems more 
meritorious than justice. It is somehow more attractive. We 
speak of it as a grace, a quality that calls not only for approval 
but for admiration and praise. 

298. It manifests itself in various forms, such as generosity, 
charity and magnanimity, all of which are peculiarly attractive 
qualities of soul. Magnanimity especially is the grace of noble 
minds. It is the cordial forgiveness of injuries done to oneself, 
the dignified forbearance which declines to resent, but ignores 
and forgets its claims, so far as they are only personal. It is that 
phase of charity which "seeketh not her own, is not easily pro- 
voked, thinketh no evil." 

299. The whole group of minor graces which spring from the 
virtue of mercy are the very flower and fragrance of virtue. 
They are such as kindness, clemency, gentleness, consideration, 
tenderness, tolerance, graciousness and others, all denoting some 
aspect of the virtue of mercy, and all manifesting a cordial sur- 
render of some claim which might be pressed on the ground of 
justice. 

"The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the 



ISO THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice 
blessed; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. It is 
mightiest in the mightiest. It becomes the throned monarch 
better than his crown." 

300. Reverence seems, on the whole, to be the best term to sig- 
nify the proper attitude of the soul toward things divine, includ- 
ing the settled constitution of the universe. Whether we regard 
the universe as the expression of the will of one eternal person, 
who, for his own good purpose, created all things, endowed them 
with their powers, and fixed their laws ; or whether we leave the 
question of its origin aside, and consider only facts of observa- 
tion and experience; in either case, we must agree that there is 
an orderly and all embracing scheme of things that commands 
respect and calls for admiration. 

301. The Hebrew prophets, whose profound appreciation of 
the unity and harmony of all things was far superior to that of 
even the greatest of the Greeks, regarded reverence as the very 
corner-stone of virtue; and in the phrase "the fear of God" 
expressed the very essence of what we here call virtue — right 
attitude of soul. All other virtues seemed to them but corollaries 
of this one. As the sun must be regarded as the centre of our 
planetary system, and all the complicated motions of the earth 
referred to it as the chief factor ; so reverence is the centre of all 
virtue, and all its contents are regulated by this grace; and the 
fear of God is evidently "the beginning of wisdom." 

302. Reverence may be defined as profound respect, suffused 
with awe and admiration. Now it is evident, not only from the 
very nature of the case, that such respect — such veneration, for 
the established order of the universe is the chief of virtues ; but 
to this our moral taste and judgment also consent; for nothing 
is more offensive to our sense of fitness, or propriety, than the 
flippant, frivolous and silly attitude of light-headed ignorance 
toward the great realties and mysteries of life before which wise 
men o'f every age and every creed have stood with bowed heads 



THE CONTENTS OF VIRTUE 151 

and sense of awe, as in the presence chamber of the King of 
Kings. "The undevout astronomer is mad/' said Herschel. 
Whether mad or not, he is certainly an ass. 

A great, deep, awful reverence for the things that be ; loyalty 
to that which seems to us eternal truth, and love for Him whose 
goodness is not excelled even by his majesty and might; this is 
what is meant by reverence, or, in the profounder phrase of the 
prophets, the fear of God. 

303. The other virtues most closely related to reverence are 
piety, humility and veneration ; than which there are none nobler 
possible to man. 

304. In the unsettled state of the terminology of ethics, it is 
impossible to frame a satisfactory scheme of the virtues; for the 
terms are so ill defined that they are all ambiguous or vague, 
and are not even consistently used by the best writers. 

305. A general notion of the order and relation of the chief 
virtues may be framed, however; and we offer the following as 
an example, — not a model — of such a scheme; and would sug- 
gest that each student of this subject exercise his mind in the 
construction of such schemes. 

Reverence. 

Veneration, Piety, Adoration, Humility. 
Justice. 

Equity, Honesty, Fairness, Veracity, Sincerity, Integrity, 

Benevolence. 
Mercy. 

Compassion, Charity, Clemency, Kindness, Graciousness, 

Considerateness, Forgiveness, Gentleness, Magnanimity. 
Self -Control. 

Temperance, Moderation, Equanimity, Courage, Fortitude, 

Patience. 
By adding synonyms this list may be greatly extended. 
Some of these terms denote duties rather than virtues, but, 
as we shall remark below, all terms that denote virtues also 
express the corresponding duties. 



CHAPTER VI 



THE CULTURE OF VIRTUE 



306. The familiar phrase, "the means of grace" is so apt a 
term for those exercises by which moral excellence is promoted, 
that we may use it, not only for those special offices of our relig- 
ion, such as the holy sacraments and prayer, which it usually sig- 
nifies, but also for all the exercises by which the soul is advanced 
in excellence and virtue. 

307. All the experiences of life furnish means of grace; its 
joys and sorrows, its successes and its failures give opportunity 
for the exercise and development of the moral powers. 

308. It is, of course, impossible to formulate a system of rules 
that would be applicable to the infinite variety of circumstances 
in which we may have to act ; but it is profitable to consider, so 
far as possible, the general principles which may serve as guides 
and stimuli to moral excellence. 

309. Of such general rules the first place may be assigned to 
attention. 

Attention is the direction of the mind to a particular object. 
It is the selection out of the field of consciousness such parts as 
we choose, and bringing those parts into the focus of our mental 
activity. As we turn our eyes to bring the image of some visible 
object into the fovea, so we may direct the mind to one or other 
object of perception. 

310. This power of voluntary attention is perhaps the most 
remarkable faculty of the mind. It seems to be the very heart 
of mental independence, the distinct characteristic of free agency. 

The discussion of this relation between attention and volition 
belongs to the field of psychology; but the fact that the soul 
has the power to choose and give attention to one part of the 

I5a 



THE CULTURE OF VIRTUE 153 

field of consciousness rather than another, and that it seems to 
make this choice by an effort of the will, is a fact of supreme 
importance in ethics. Here if anywhere we hope to find the 
solution of the vexed problem, how man can be responsible, and 
yet subject to the law of causation — how he can guide his life, if 
his will must act according to the motives acting upon it. Leaving 
this problem again to the psychologist, we are quite free to go on 
with such considerations of the facts as may belong to ethics, and 
reach such conclusions as the facts may seem to warrant. 

311. It is certainly possible for us to direct our attention to 
any particular object, and, for the time at least, to ignore all 
others. However the objects of sense and memory may present 
themselves to consciousness without our invitation, it is still our 
prerogative to shut the door against some and welcome others to 
the hospitality of our souls. 

It is true that this welcome will be accorded most readily to 
those thoughts or percepts which have strongest affinity with the 
present state of the soul; but it is also true that the will can 
prefer the remote to the immediate desire. We can give atten- 
tion to a dull lesson, if not because it interests us, yet because 
the desire to learn it for some remoter purpose does interest; 
and we choose to attend or not to attend to it, and never doubt 
but that we could have made the other choice. 

312. This power to direct our thoughts seems to be the first 
and most important factor in the problem of self culture; for we 
are largely formed by associations and habit. "Our nature is 
subdued to what it works in like the dyer's hand." The imagin- 
ation works upon the matter furnished by perception and mem- 
ory, and will occupy itself on what we choose to give attention 
to, and the resultant images will be determined chiefly by the 
matter thus admitted, and our affections will develop in har- 
mony with our imagination. 

313. Of course the opposite is also true; imagination will al- 
ways tend to deal with such things as our affections already 



.• 



154 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

crave, but this does not mitigate at all against the influence of 
the imagination to form and strengthen the affections. 

314. The practical exhortation of St. Paul is based on sound 
psychology, "Whatsoever things are true, whatsover things are 
venerable, whatsoever things are pure, whatsover things are 
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report ; if there be any vir- 
tue and if there be any praise, think on these things." 

The implication here is that by attention to such things — 
dwelling on them in our thoughts, our interest and affections 
will be enlisted and corresponding choice and action follow. 

315. The obverse truth is even more clearly evident; familiar- 
ity with vice, the secret brooding over evil thoughts, is the sure 
provocative of evil purposes and evil deeds, — 

''Vice is a monster of such hideous mien 
That to be loathed needs but to be seen ; 
But seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. ,, 

The principle thus recognized by the apostle and the poet is 
also pointed out by all psychologists. These words of Dr. James 
may serve as the experts' testimony on the matter. 

"The whole drama of voluntary life hinges on the amount of 
attention, slightly more or slightly less, which rival motor ideas 
may receive. But the whole feeling of reality, the whole sting 
and excitement of our voluntary life, depends on our sense that 
in it things are really being decided from one moment to another, 
and that it is not the dull rattling off of a chain that was forged 
innumerable ages ago." 

316. The practical application of this principle gives a useful 
hint as to the proper attitude of mind in the culture of virtue. 
It should be directed toward the ideals to be reached, and not to 
present attainments. It is better to escape from our defects by 
thinking of their opposite excellencies — to overcome our mean- 
ness by the contemplation of heroes, — expel our selfishness by 
thinking of generous deeds. In the happy phrase of Dr. Chal- 



THE CULTURE OF VIRTUE 155 

mers, "Apply the expulsive power of a new affection." 

317. It is, of course, necessary to give attention to our own 
inward state, to take account of our moral development and to 
measure our progress by such standards as may be available; as 
the sailor takes his observation of the sun from time to time to 
correct his reckoning and find his place. But the healthy mind 
will not give much attention to its pulse and temperature, nor 
occupy itself with morbid introspection; but rather give atten- 
tion to the ideal self which it seeks to realize, and "forgetting 
the things that are behind and reaching forth to those that are 
before, press toward the mark." 

318. Environment is the next means of grace to be considered. 
This is a great word with many social reformers. They would 
create virtue by putting men in such outward circumstances as 
are conducive to the growth of right views, right tastes, and 
expect nature to do the rest. 

319. It is easy to exaggerate the influence of good environment; 
for the forces which act on character are chiefly from within and 
not from without — they are chiefly subjective, not objective, and 
therefore not dependent on external conditions. 

On the other hand, the influence of external conditions is no 
small factor in our problems of life, and must be considered 
carefully, if we would realize high ideals. 

320. The most important consideration in the matter is the 
fact that our environment is very largely under our own control. 
The circumstances of today are, for the most part, due to the 
choices of yesterday. I wasted my substance yesterday, and find 
myself obliged to feed swine today; or I chose evil companions 
in youth, and they have enveloped me with bad associations 
which I cannot escape now. So the freedom of the present be- 
comes the fate of the future ; and we cannot evade the responsi- 
bility for the consequences of our own free choice. Nor is this 
arrangement an unfavorable one. It is indeed the chief advan- 
tage of our freedom that we can plan our lives — can look before 



156 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

as well as after, and act with reference to the future, and not 
merely according to the expediency of the present moment. 

321. Moreover the stress of present circumstances is not nearly 
so strong as we are apt to imagine at the time. History testifies 
that the great majority of those who have attained great excel- 
lence did so in spite of what seemed, at the time, unfavorable 
circumstances, such as poverty or oppression or lack of friendly 
aid. In fact the only definition of favorable environment that 
we can frame is, such circumstances as one is able to use to 
advantage. One man may find great wealth, with its opportuni- 
ties of service, a most potent means of moral development, while 
another may find in the same circumstance temptations to sloth 
and selfishness which he is unable to resist. It is impossible to 
appraise the items of environment at any fixed value, for their 
influence must depend upon the use we choose to make of them, 
or as the proverb puts it, "one man's meat is another man's 
poison. " 

322. But, while we recognize the fact that environment is but 
a means which the will must use — a tool by which its purposes 
are executed, we must not forget that it is a most important tool 
and, like all tools in that its efficiency depends on its condition ; 
and as the wise workman does not grudge the time and labor 
required to keep his tools in good condition, so the wise man 
will seek the most favorable environment and will not regret the 
sacrifice of much present advantage, if by such sacrifice he may 
secure a better condition under which to act in the future. 

Lot pitched his tent toward Sodom, because the plain of 
Sodom was well suited to his purpose; but, by so doing, he 
moved to an environment that proved disastrous. So, many a 
man chooses the line of present advantage, or of least resis- 
tance, only to find that the choice involved him in circumstances 
that were ruinous. 

There is good philosophy in Browning's exhortation, — 



THE CULTURE OF VIRTUE 157 

"Then welcome each rebuff 
That turns life's smoothness rough, 
Each sting that bids not sit nor stand but go." 

And there is also wisdom in the conclusion of the Hebrew 
"Preacher" when he says, "There is nothing better for a man 
than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his 
soul enjoy good in his labor. This also I saw that it was from 
the hand of God." 

The "rebuffs" of life, and the "good of one's labor" are each 
in their time and place the means of grace which the wise man 
may use to his growth in virtue. 

323. A third chief means of moral culture is the practise of 
virtue. Growth by exercise seems to be the universal law of 
nature. 

Virtue is an art, as well as a state of mind, and the exercise of 
the art is a means of developing the state. As musical taste is 
developed by the cultivation of the art of music, so the moral 
taste, — the ability to appreciate the beauty of moral excellence 
— is formed by proper exercise of our moral powers. 

324. The influence of conduct on the affections is perhaps most 
clearly seen in the cultivation of the minor morals, such as the 
social graces. It is a matter of common observation that good 
taste in manners and dress cannot be acquired from rules or 
direction in the usuages of good society. They require the drill 
of long continued exercise, so that they are inwrought and habit- 
ual. The graces of manner, the courtesies that are so easy to 
the gentleman or lady are the despair of the educated boor, in 
spite of all his knowledge and learning. They are attained to 
by the practice that forms habits, and sharpens the perception 
of that harmony and fitness of things which we call taste. 

325. The influence of right conduct to mature and refine the 
affections is not less powerful in the more substantial virtues — 
rather more so. As our Lord said, "He that doeth the will of 
my father shall know the doctrine." So in all the varied activi- 



158 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

ties of life the perception of goodness, the ability to appreciate 
moral excellence, and the discriminating taste are developed by 
patient and persistent practise of the virtues, — by the drill of 
daily exercise, the habit-making process of repeated action. 

326. These three laws, — the law of attention, of environment, 
and of exercise, are the chief means of moral culture. By these 
we cultivate that love for the right things, which is essentially 
the virtuous state of mind. 

327. There are other means which for the most part are subor- 
dinate to these, or merely different applications of these princi- 
ples, but they are worthy of consideration especially because of 
the use that has been made of them, and the value often attached 
to them in the various disciplines that men have invented for 
their own self-culture, or the training of the young. 

328. Asceticism is perhaps the most important of these invented 
means of moral culture. We say invented, for it seems unnat- 
ural to deliberately reverse the dictates of our senses, and choose 
that which they reject and reject the things they crave. Ascet- 
icism, not content with the "rebuffs that turn life's currents 
rough, " deliberately roughens the currents of life — seeks grat- 
uitous pain and hardship, in the hope of thereby gaining more 
complete mastery over all external circumstances. This moral 
purpose is very often supplemented by the religious aim of pleas- 
ing God, or the gods of their respective faiths. 

329. It cannot be denied that asceticism has done good. It has 
done something worth while in convincing the world that there 
is in man a spirit that can rise superior to the dictates of his 
senses, and even hold them in contempt. There is something 
heroic — admirable, in the fortitude that not only endures the 
ills of life which fall to man by nature, but goes out of his way 
to suffer what he might escape. 

To a degree, asceticism is justified also by its educative influ- 
ence. It is well to be prepared for the trials that will surely 
come, and often such a preparation may best be made by under- 



THE CULTURE OF VIRTUE 159 

going similar experience voluntarily assumed, as the training of 
the athlete is preparatory for the race or game. 

But the principle of asceticism is a mistake in morals, as it is 
erroneous in religion. As an exhibition of self-mastery it has 
rather the spirit of bravado than of heroism. The real hero 
conserves his resources, and exhibits his powers only in the 
accomplishment of some worthy purpose — never for the sake of 
showing off. 

As a means of discipline it tends rather to distort one's views 
of excellence by putting fortitude in the foreground of ideal 
character and obscuring other graces of as great, or greater 
worth. Preparation for the trials that fall to one in the 
path of duty forms no* part of the ascetic theory. For him 
suffering and privation are a good end in themselves, and not a 
means to something else. 

330. Closely related to the spirit of asceticism, but manifesting 
itself in a different form, is the spirit of monasticism. I say the 
spirit of monasticism, for the uses of monasticism have been var- 
ious and many of them are of great excellence and value. It 
would indeed be hard to overestimate what the world owes to 
the organized monasticism of the middle ages of Europe. 

331. Nevertheless the spirit of monasticism is a perversion of 
good morals. The essential feature of the monastic life is sep- 
aration from the world, — segregation from the community. This 
is a contradiction of the fundamental law of society that no man 
liveth to himself. 

Man is a social being, not merely in the sense that he loves 
the company of his fellow men, but in the profounder sense of 
finding his normal development only as a member of society — 
part of a community w T ith its various relations and obligations. 
Only under such conditions does he find exercise for his highest 
faculties, and develops a well rounded character. In so far as 
monasticism removes the individual from this normal relation 
to society, it tends to narrow and distort his development. 



160 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

332. Much the same objection may be made to any other 
scheme of life which aims at the development of one's own char- 
acter, without regard to his obligations to the community of 
which he is a part. 

333. The intimate relation between morals and religion must 
not be overlooked. The cultivation of virtue is the supreme 
purpose of all religious exercises. To make men good, — to bring 
them into harmony with God,— to cultivate the right affections 
is the aim and object of all the ordinary services of religion. 
Prayer, the sacraments and the study of God's word are preem- 
inently means of Grace; for they are directed to the enlighten- 
ment of the mind on moral principles, to the cultivation of rever- 
ence and purity of heart and to the promotion of fidelity to the 
truth and true ideals. Aside from all the supernatural influence 
that may be hoped for through these means, the natural effect of 
the habitual contemplation of the great truths of our spiritual life, 
the conscious opening of our inmost souls to the inspection of a 
holy but sympathetic friend, and the solemn communion with 
the divine Lord of all spiritual life are intensely effective to the 
development and purifying of our moral affections. 



CHAPTER VII 



DUTY AND DUTIES 



334. Duty is a general term denoting all that we are obliged 
to do or to be. It is literally that which is due; and thus it cor- 
responds to the term ought, which is literally that which we owe. 

Both these terms imply an obligation or demand made upon 
us by someone, or some law of the universe of which we are a 
part. 

335. The relation between virtue and duty has already been 
indicated in a general way. Virtue is a state of the soul — a 
subjective condition; duty is a scheme of conduct, — an objective 
program to be performed. 

336. Duty is best conceived of as conformity to the fixed order 
of the universe ; or, if this seems too general, let us say, conform- 
ity to the will of the Creator. The latter is the simpler concept ; 
and it makes no difference here whether the order of things is 
thought of as the intelligent arrangement of a personal God, or 
merely an order which we find existing ; and which comprehends 
us, whether we comprehend it or not. The important matter to 
observe is that this order of things which determines duty is 
fixed and invariable. There is no referendum or recall appli- 
cable to the laws of nature. 

337. The force of gravity pulls or pushes in a certain estab- 
lished manner and degree ; the laws of numbers are also absolute 
and eternal; therefore we can calculate with certainty and 
announce our conclusions with confidence. We say five times 
four pounds ought to be twenty pounds, and do not think it neces- 
sary to verify our conclusion by weighing the lot. It is quite 
intelligible to say it is their duty to weigh twenty pounds. That 
is what is due according to the laws of numbers, and things must 

161 



162 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

conform to the order of nature. 

So conduct ought to conform to the order of nature; this 
obligation is duty. It is constitutional and absolute. But the 
particular conduct demanded of each soul depends on his partic- 
ular place and relation. The specific content of duty — the pro- 
grams for the individual may vary infinitely, but in each case it is 
fixed and settled by the laws of the universe. The habits and 
customs of men may bring certain actions into one's program, 
make them a part of the individual duty, but they have otherwise 
no power or influence whatever. To take from another what he 
has labored to produce, without giving an equivalent, is wrong, 
no matter what the custom of the tribe may be. To violate 
any law of morality brings inevitable consequences just as surely 
as the violation of physical laws will do. In this respect, as in 
all respects, moral laws are natural laws. 

338. The question what is our specific duty, what is due from 
us, at any particular time and place, can only be answered after 
consideration of all the relations, conditions and circumstances 
involved, and must therefore be answered hour by hour. It can 
only be decided when we know our powers and opportunities. 
All forecast of duty must therefore be conditional — must be 
made on the supposition of certain conditions being then present. 
Such suppositions can of course be made, and certain rules of 
conduct framed for our direction, and thus an art of ethics may 
be developed. 

339. The discussion of the specific content of duty forms the 
science of casuistry, which we will discuss later ; but just now we 
are concerned with the permanent principles of duty. 

340. There are two points of view from which the whole field 
of ethics may be regarded, and the whole aspect of the subject 
depends largely on the point of view we take. 

If we conceive of ethics as a branch of pure philosophy, having 
for its object the interpretation of moral phenomena, the defini- 
tion of goodness and the quality of virtue, we properly think in 



DUTY AND DUTIES 163 

such concepts as goodness and virtue and character. But if we 
regard ethics as a science having for its aim the determination of 
right action, then we think rather of right and duty and conduct 
as the proper subjects of study. 

341. The history of ethics shows a curious tendency on the 
part of both ancient and modern moralists to take one or the 
other of these points of view and ignore the other. The result 
has been unfortunate, in that the great works on the philosophic 
side of ethics are so obstruse and metaphysical that they reached 
only an audience "fit but few — " very few indeed. The writ- 
ings of such as Aristotle, Kant, and T. H. Green, are among the 
very great books of the world, but are hard reading even for 
the learned and are "caviar to the general." 

On the other hand the more popular treatises on the practical 
side are for the most part either pitifully superficial, or dull 
preachments of platitudes or commonplace exhortations. 

342. There does not seem to be any good reason why the phil- 
osophical and practical should be thus separated. Indeed they 
are not always separated. The Hebrew prophets were splendid- 
ly successful in presenting duty on a profound basis of meta- 
physics, and defining righteous conduct from a sublime concep- 
tion of the universe. 

Their writings have been tremendously influential, chiefly 
because they gave a clear and positive scheme of the universe as 
the foundation of their exhortations to righteousness. Their 
whole theory of duty was obedience to a sovereign God. "Hear 
the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and keep his 
commandments ; for this is the whole duty of man." 

This concept rested on the conviction that God was the crea- 
tor of the world and ruled in righteousness. This rule of duty 
may be paraphrased in some such form as this: Maintain right 
relations to the established order of the universe — respect the 
eternal constitution of the world. It is nearly the equivalent of 
Kant's idea that duty is a "categorical imperative" or the more 



1 64 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

modern phrase "adaptation to environment." 

343. Corresponding to this is the concept of duty implied in 
the fine definition of sin, "Peccatum est disconvenientia, actus, 
status aut habitus, cum divina lege, — " Sin is want of conform- 
ity to the divine will, in act or state or habit. 

344. The relation between virtue and duty is very intimate. 
Virtue is the state of the soul that is in harmony with duty; so 
that the demands of the moral order, — the categorical impera- 
tive of objective and eternal relations — coincide with the spon- 
taneous impulse and judgment of the subjective self. 

345. It follows from this that virtue cannot be attained by 
mere obedience to law. Doing right does not constitute virtue. 
One may be honest from policy, may be truthful from conveni- 
ence or chaste from fear of evil consequences, and yet have none 
of these virtues. 

346. The more difficult question as to the conflict of moral 
judgment and the principles of duty belongs here, and is rather 
complicated. Stated in a concrete case, it is this. Paul perse- 
cuted the early Christians; this was certainly not his duty, but 
the contrary. But Paul thought he did God service. Did he do 
right or wrong in following his sincere conviction? Did duty 
consist in obeying his conscience or in something else? This 
question, for the most part, belongs to the science of casuistry, 

• but the principle to be noted here is that Paul's conviction did 
not, could not, make persecution right, — could not put it in the 
category of duty, nor in any degree affect the consequences of 
his action. Nevertheless, Paul's duty was to follow his convic- 
tions — "to do right as God gave him to see the right." The 
only solution possible seems to be that, in the imperfect and dis- 
ordered condition of our moral sense and judgments, we may be 
entangled in our mistakes so that personal obligation clashes 
with absolute duty, — an abnormal condition, but an actual one 
to all mankind. However perplexing such questions may be, 
we must not doubt that the demands of moral law are just as 



DUTY AND DUTIES 165 

absolute as those of physical law, and we are sure that physical 
laws are utterly indifferent to our opinions. Poison taken by 
mistake acts exactly as poison taken with deadly purpose. 

347. It is worth remarking that our modern habit of conceiv- 
ing of all science in terms of biology, regarding all things as 
dynamic, evolutional and, in a sense, creative, instead of mechan- 
ical and static, has greatly changed the aspect of ethical phenom- 
ena. Man is no longer regarded as a mechanism of interacting 
faculties, completely fashioned and geared to certain definite ac- 
tion, but rather as a tissue of growing and incomplete and much 
diseased spiritual substance, developing and acting under laws as 
absolute as God himself, but analogous with the laws of physical 
life rather than the statutes of legislation. 

348. In other words, ethics is surely taking its place among the 
natural sciences, and duty more distinctly seen to be the demand 
of an eternal and immutable order of the universe, which must 
be regarded as the will of a Creator. 

DUTIES 

349. The terms justice, mercy, reverence, and indeed all terms 
used to denote virtues are used also to denote the corresponding 
duties, as you will find very fully illustrated by the definitions 
given in your dictionaries. 

This ambiguity is somewhat confusing, but it has at least this 
compensating advantage, it serves to emphasize the close relation 
between virtues and duties; virtues being qualities or states of 
the soul, duties are courses of conduct appropriate to those quali- 
ties or states. Justice, for example, may mean either the proper 
attitude of the soul toward the rights of others, or the actions 
demanded by those rights. As already remarked, virtues are sub- 
jective states, duties are objective programs of action. Virtues 
are elements of character, duties are lines of conduct. 

350. It is evident that duties are much harder to determine 



1 66 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

than virtues ; for virtues are absolute, duties are conditional. The 
attitude of mind that is proper toward my neighbor's rights is 
fixed by the constitution of the world, by my place and his place 
in the scheme of things which we call nature, and is therefore 
permanent; but the specific actions called for by these relations 
will depend on the powers at my disposal, the opportunities 
afforded me to act and the entire combination of circumstances 
in each particular case; and these circumstances are capable of 
infinite variation. The virtue of benevolence, for example, is 
always the proper attitude of the soul of every man to every 
other; it may not be relinquished for a moment, even under the 
greatest provocation; but any particular course of conduct may 
or may not be duty. I may have the best of right affections 
toward my neighbors, yet find my duty requires me to give alms 
to one and withhold it from another, to forgive the debt of one 
and exact payment from another. 

351. Duties are so largely determined by circumstances — by 
relations, that it is impossible to construct any complete direc- 
tory or manual of conduct ; all such attempts have failed, and all 
such manuals have been so obviously injurious that even the 
legitimate science of casuistry has fallen into disrepute. 

352. This impossibility of framing a complete formula for 
conduct does not forbid the most careful study of the elements 
of duty. As the impossibility of describing the symptoms of each 
case does not forbid, but rather obliges the physician to study the 
principles of medicine, so the difficulty of formulating rules of 
conduct to apply to all cases demands the more careful consider- 
ation of the principles which underlie all duties. 

353. It is interesting to notice in this connection that the great 
codes of moral law are essentially definitions of virtues rather 
than of duty. The Ten Commandments are revelations of 
proper attitudes of mind rather than directions of conduct. Thou 
shalt not kill is a definition of the proper respect to be shown to 
my neighbor's right to live rather than a specific direction of 



DUTY AND DUTIES 167 

conduct. It is rightly interpreted as requiring "all lawful 
endeavor to preserve our own life and the lives of others." The 
negative form in which most laws are framed is also due to the 
fact that they are intended to define the scope or field of action 
within which virtue may be freely manifested. All such defi- 
nitions are like hedges by the roadside, not so much to indicate 
where I must go, but to protect the fields of my neighbor from 
trespass. 

The great majority of legislation is for this purpose, to define 
rights, to forbid wrongs, and thus to furnish data from which 
duties may be inferred. 

354. All duties have for their ultimate foundation, rights — 
properties and relations, which are assigned to each person or 
thing in the order of the universe. These properties and rela- 
tions are inalienable, they cannot rightly be taken from me, nor 
may I rightly neglect them, abuse them or allow them to be 
diminished or destroyed. 

355. This conception of duty gives us a good point of approach 
to the study of the great field of duties. All duties are the 
activities demanded to protect and develop and exercise the prop- 
erties belonging to us by nature in the relations established by 
natural law. These properties are considered under the category 
of virtues, the relations are the object of study in our attempts 
to define duties. 

356. These relations may be classified in any way convenience 
may require. It is customary to consider them under the heads, 
personal, social and religious. Such duties as spring from our 
relations to ourself are called personal, those which have to do 
with our relations to our fellow men are social, and those that 
rise from our relation to God, religious. 

357. In following this order it is important to observe that 
duties cannot be separated according to these lines of classifica- 
tion. Every duty must be determined by all our relations, — 
every act has its bearing on everything included in the system of 



1 68 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

which we are a part. The line between my neighbor's field and 
mine may be defined, for where his rights begin and mine end, 
and though the line be ever so crooked it is fixed and absolute ; 
but in most things our rights are blended, fused and complicated 
and to separate them is as difficult as to "unscramble eggs." 
358. All that we can do is to consider some cases of frequent 
occurrence and analyze them in the hope of finding some rules of 
conduct that can be readily applied in actual life. We can often 
discern, where we cannot separate. 



CHAPTER VIII 



PERSONAL DUTIES 



359. Our personal duties are those that have least to do with 
our neighbors' rights. They are grounded and measured by the 
place assigned to us by nature, by the powers given us and the 
conditions under which we can use them. I find myself endowed 
with certain faculties, impelled by certain instincts, capable of 
certain self-control. I find my reason and emotions satisfied by 
certain conduct, and dissatisfied with any other. I conclude 
therefore that my office is determined by nature and its demands 
are imperative. I am somehow obliged to perform the offices 
assigned to me so as to promote the general welfare of the uni- 
verse, — to realize the purpose of the scheme of things, so far as 
that purpose depends on me. My "talent" is given me for use, 
and I may neither misuse it nor neglect it, for no one else can do 
my work, nor assume my responsibility. 

Old Antonio Stradivari, the famous maker of violins, worked 
at his trade when very old, for he said, "I must do my work 
which no one else can do. God himself cannot make a genuine 
Stradivari violin without Antonio." 

That is the right conception of personal duty. Each life and 
all its possibilities are parts of the whole scheme of things. The 
world's need is each man's opportunity. The only means by 
which any man can attain to honor or glory is by doing some- 
thing that the world needs to have done, being something that 
the world needs to possess. 

360. The most obvious and fundamental of all personal duties 
is the preservation of one's own life. The most radical of all 
failures in personal duty is suicide. It is desertion from the 
army in "that great fight by truth and freedom ever waged with 

169 



170 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

wrong." It is the act of the shirk and the coward — albeit some 
men have committed suicide in their despondency and blindness 
of mind. That suicide is never right seems abundantly proven 
by the following considerations. First, no man knows certainly 
when his work is done. The darkest skies may brighten and the 
most forlorn hope may yet succeed, and even when our hopes 
are utterly crushed and our plans absolutely hopeless, the very 
consequences of our defeat may often bring up new possibilities 
which we should be ready to realize. Suicide from despair is 
never justifiable. 

Second, Suicide from shame is always cowardice. It is nobler 
to endure the just contempt of men and all the punishment they 
can inflict than to fly from these by destroying our life. But 
nobler than mere endurance is the attempt at restitution by 
redeeming lost honor, by reclaiming ruined reputation. The 
atonement for the past by a noble future is the only course that 
commands the respect of our moral judgment. 

Third, physical suffering is limited by nature. Whatever 
is really unendurable does not have to be endured. Nature itself 
comes to our relief and sets us free. It is great presumption for 
us at any time to suppose we are wiser than nature or to set our 
judgment against her known decrees. 
361. The familiar passage from Rousseau is worth quoting, — 

"Listen to me, thou foolish youth; thou art dear to me, I 
pity thy errors. If thou has left in the bottom of thy heart the 
least feeling of virtue left, come to me, let me teach thee to love 
life. Every time thou shalt be tempted to put an end to it, 
say to thyself: 'Let me do one more good deed before I die.' 
Then go and seek some poverty to relieve, some misfortune to 
console, some oppressed wretch to protect. If this contempla- 
tion does not stop thee today, it will stop thee tomorrow, or the 
day after, or perhaps for the rest of thy life. If it does not stop 
thee, go then and die, for thou art not worthy to live." 

The last part of this quotation is, of course, rhetorical rather 



PERSONAL DUTIES 171 

than moral. To bid one go and die because he is not worthy 
to live would condemn too many. Morality says rather, "thou 
art not worthy to live, therefore not ready to die ; make thyself 
worthy, correct thy course, square thine account before you are 
called away." 

362. It is a significant fact that the great majority of suicides 
are due to the most trivial and contemptible causes, pique or 
petty disappointment, the loss of money, or chagrin of failure 
are the most common causes. Only rarely do we hear of a case 
that affords the slightest room for doubt or ground for debate 
as to its being justifiable. It is also worth remarking that the 
strongest instincts of our nature protest against self destruction 
and in all ages the suicide has been regarded with peculiar horror 
and aversion. The alleged "virtue" of the ancient Romans was 
never the "virtue" of the masses, but rather the excuse of the 
haughty. 

363. Suicide must not be confounded with self-sacrifice. To 
risk death, and even to seek it in a worthy cause is the highest 
form of heroism, and the very antithesis of suicide. One is the 
casting away as worthless that which is committed to our keep- 
ing. The other is laying that same precious thing upon the 
altar as the supreme gift to a worthy cause. 

Even here, however, it is well to remember that the careless 
sacrifice of life even in a good cause is not heroic. We respect 
even the grim virtue of old John Brown when on trial for 
treason compelled the sheriff to carry him bodily from the jail to 
the court room on the grotesque ground that he "would not 
assist in his own murder." 

TEMPERANCE 

364. The duty of preserving life implies the duty of preserving 
and promoting health. This is true not only because health 
tends to prolong life, but also because it makes life more com- 



m THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

plete and more efficient. If sufcide is wrong, then any wilful 
diminution of health or strength is wrong, for it is partial sui- 
cide, — a partial desertion from the post of duty. 

365. Deliberate and unprovoked damage to health is, for the 
most part, prevented by the natural correlation between health 
and comfort. Pain is the great preventive agent to warn and 
protect us against wilful or careless injury to physical welfare. 
What remorse is to the soul, pain is to the body, at once the 
penalty for violation of the laws of nature, and the incentive to 
obedience to those laws. 

But the sense of obligation to respect the claims of nature by 
promoting all our powers, and the warning protest of pain are 
not always strong enough to resist the impelling force of appetite 
and desire. Appetites and instincts are necessary to move us to 
the activities by which the life of the individual and the procre- 
ation of the race are effected. But these impulses are intense, 
and to be conducive to our physical welfare must be rightly 
balanced and subordinated to the higher claims of right purposes. 
This balancing of impulses, this restraining and governing the 
appetites and instincts is what we mean by moderation or tem- 
perance. 

366. In attempting to define the ethical principles involved in 
temperance we may begin by the assumption that all natural 
appetites are good and useful. None of them could be extirpated 
without damage. 

But it is not so easy to decide just what are natural appetites. 
Our present condition is so largely the result of our previous 
conduct, perpetuated in the habits of body and mind, and trans- 
mitted from generation to generation by heredity, that it is cer- 
tain that they are largely artificial, the product of our own free 
action and of the conduct of our ancestors. It is also certain 
that, in man especially, the appetites and passions and instincts 
are seriously perverted, and are not nearly as trustworthy as 
those of irrational beings. The power of imagination to present 



PERSONAL DUTIES 173 

the objects of our natural desires in attractive forms, and the 
inventive genius that has so greatly enhanced the pleasures of 
the senses tend to intensify the appeal of appetite and make it 
harder to resist. Man's inventive genius has also devised many 
ways and means of avoiding, or at least postponing, the pains 
and penalties imposed by nature on offenses against her laws. 
He has also intensified the appeal of the senses by associating 
sensuous pleasure with emotional joy and rational satisfaction. 
The pleasure of the banquet, for example, is based on the natural 
appetite for food and drink; but the satisfaction of the desire 
for food is little more than the occasion around which the arts 
gather a host of attractions. The arts of cookery and vintage, 
the arts of decoration exhibited in dishes and linen and flowers 
and lights, the arts of conversation and the instinct of com- 
panionship, the emotional appeal of exhilaration due to wine and 
pleasant fellowship, all combine to so intensify the natural appe- 
tite as to tempt us to excess. 

367. Other natural instincts are the occasion around which 
gather a host of associations and customs and habits that per- 
meate every relation in life, and influence conduct in a thousand 
ways. The duty of temperance is evidently one of the greatest 
that we have. It is the duty which chiefly demands the virtue of 
self-control, and the practical exercise of that virtue requires the 
nicest balance of judgment and appreciation of values. 

368. It is extremely difficult to frame rules for temperance, 
for in its very nature it must be regulated by balance of one 
desire against another, giving to each its' proper weight and due 
consideration. 

369. In some things, the rule of total abstinence is wise. 
When any desire is apt to lead to excess, it is dangerous, and if it 
may be entirely denied without that denial doing harm, it is the 
obvious dictate of prudence to abstain. This is the rational 
basis for the rule of total abstinence from all use of alcoholic 
drinks. Such abstinence does not impair our usefulness, does not 



174 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

greatly restrict our pleasure, while on the other hand the rapidity 
with which an appetite for alcohol grows in strength, and the 
appalling ruin it produces when it grows beyond control makes 
the duty of abstinence most obvious. 

370. The same principle of prudence dictates abstinence from 
other pleasures of the senses as a duty, though those pleasures 
under some conditions may be quite permissible. Some forms 
of amusement that are proper under certain circumstances may 
be wrong in others. 

Dancing, for example, is an attractive and innocent exercise; 
but, when it involves loss of health by late hours, loss of dignity 
or modesty by reason of dress or attitude, it is obviously an evil. 

Even the playing of such games as chess or billiards may be 
the occasion of such neglect of duties that they become an evil. 

371. The principle involved in all these cases is the same. 
Abstinence is a duty when the desire is either evil in itself, or is 
likely to become an evil by excess, and when by abstaining we do 
not sacrifice any power or opportunity for doing the duties 
belonging to us in our several places and relations. 

372. But the rule of abstinence is much more easily applied 
than rules of proper moderation, where abstinence is not our 
duty, and not even permissible. 

The pleasures of the senses are so evidently part of the scheme 
of nature, and so obviously necessary to impel us to action, that 
their proper gratification is not only a privilege but a duty. 

While voluntary abstinence from such pleasures may, under 
certain circumstances, be the necessary means to higher ends — 
as fasting for the discipline of our moral or religious life, or 
celibacy that we may the better perform some special offices, yet, 
under normal circumstances, all pleasures that are included in 
the scheme of nature are an aid to virtue, and their proper enjoy- 
ment elevating and ennobling. 

373. The pleasures of music and fine art are generally allowed 
to be conducive to moral excellence, yet they are essentially sens- 



PERSONAL DUTIES 175 

uous pleasures, though their intimate association with emotions 
gives them an added dignity, and perhaps justifies the common 
judgment that they are of a higher quality than the pleasures 
of appetite or of the sense of touch. But it seems rather that the 
fact that music and fine art are not so often indulged in to 
excess, and their excess not so degrading as excess in the pleasures 
of some other senses, explains the fact that they are held in 
higher honor. It would be hard to show why the epicure, who 
has cultivated an artistic taste for dainty meats, should rank 
lower than the musician whose ear is trained to the appreciation 
of sweet sounds, or why the skilled confectioner should not be 
honored as well as the artist, in so far at least as both their 
efforts are directed to increasing sensuous pleasure. 

374. There is another field of pleasure that has at least its 
basis in the senses, that is the field of physical grace and dignity 
of manner, — all that we mean by decorum, propriety and seem- 
liness of conduct. It is true that these graces are esteemed 
chiefly because of the moral qualities that they are supposed to 
indicate; but this is not the whole reason for our approval of 
them; we admire dignity of manner, even when we know that 
it is not accompanied by moral worth, and gracious bearing is 
pleasing in itself. 

375. We seem justified in the conclusion that all the pleasures 
of the senses are not only respectable and permissible, but are 
a part of our inheritance, which we are to cherish and develop 
and enjoy in due degree and moderation, and that moderation 
here is right proportion and relation. 

376. Duty in regard to these things consists in rightly judging 
what is due proportion and relation, and in the avoidance of 
excess. 

377. The duty of moderation in relation to our instinctive 
desires is regulated according to the same principles that we 
have applied to the impulses of sensuous pleasure. 

Our instincts are of a great variety of forms and quality, 



176 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

impelling us to many different kinds of conduct; but in their 
relation to ethical principles they are all nearly alike. Like the 
bodily appetites they urge us blindly — that is without reflection 
or the consent of our will — to certain courses of conduct. They 
are simply impulsive forces springing from our constitution — 
they impel as gravity or magnetism impels, and have in them- 
selves no moral quality, except so far as their present strength 
may be due to our previous conduct. 

The rule of total abstinence under all circumstances does not 
apply to any one of them, but they must all be governed, or mod- 
erated, by reason. 

378. Some of the more important in their influence on conduct 
are the instincts of emulation, imitation and curiosity. Of these 
emulation is perhaps the strongest and most constant in its influ- 
ence and may be taken as typical of all. It has been remarked 
by good authority that "nine-tenths of the world's work is done 
by emulation." This is no doubt somewhat exaggerated, but 
we need only open our eyes and observe the world around us to 
be impressed and astonished by the tremendous influence of this 
instinct. 

379. The whole world toils and groans under its tasks which 
are in large part self-imposed. We labor for clothing, not for 
comfort nor for beauty, but to keep up with the fashion. We do 
not even pretend that our hats are useful or our dress coats 
beautiful, but we will sacrifice all but life and honor, 
and sometimes both of these, rather than seem out of the fashion. 
We heap up great fortunes, or try to, at the cost of health and 
ease and comfort, and we do so, for the most part, not with the 
purpose or hope of using the fortune for some pleasant end, but 
for joy of the game, for the satisfaction of doing more or better 
in our business than our rivals. Of course no student ever 
studies for the sake of standing high in his class — that is bad 
form nowadays— but on the athletic field what is the incentive ? 
to win the game, to beat England, to break a record. In social 



PERSONAL DUTIES 177 

life it is if possible even more intense. "Keeping up with 
Lizzie," drives the whole town at a pace that kills. The duty 
in these things is temperance, moderation, sanity, measured by 
the relative values of possible objects of our desire. The prac- 
tical rule of duty in regard to these impulses of instinct is to use 
our reason, to stop, look and listen, to "walk circumspectly," and 
in the picturesque language of the English navy, "keep your 
hair on." 

COMMON SENSE 

380. The duty of temperance, — as indeed may be said of all 
duties, is first of all right thinking. Conduct cannot be kept 
permanently good by mere conformity to good rules. Command- 
ments, precepts, rules of conduct are very useful, first, as revela- 
tions of principles, as for example the Ten Commandments; 
second, as convenient "ready-to-wear" formula of actions which, 
like good habits, economize time and effort; but the only ulti- 
mate basis of good conduct is good thinking. "As a man thinketh 
in his heart so is he." 

381. One of the chief requisites of good thinking is that poise 
and balance of mind which is called common sense. It is not 
called common sense because it is common in the sense of abund- 
ance ; for it is by no means common in that sense ; but it is that 
sense which is the result of seeing things from all sides, the 
consensus of all points of view. It is the opposite of prejudice, 
of partial consideration and of extreme specialization. It is, in 
a word, temperance of thought. 

382. Common sense is not genius, nor an attainment of scholar- 
ship, but a habit of mind which, like all habits, is formed in the 
mind by our activities. It is therefore especially a duty, a thing 
which we are under obligation to develop and to practice. It 
is due that we look on all sides of every matter we would judge, 
that we "think to the thirty-two points of the compass," and bear 



178 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

in mind the truth that we have not heard the case till all the 
evidence is in, and both sides fairly stated ; then that we decide, 
not on this point or that, but on a fair and open-minded view 
of the whole matter. 



CHAPTER IX 
PERSONAL DUTIES — Continued 

INDUSTRY 

383. This world is the scene of marvelous activity; it is full of 
the hum and rustle and roar of its ceaseless movement. Ever)' 
creature is busy with its tasks; each one is driven by its nature, 
its instincts or its necessities to the work that forms its duty 
and secures its happiness. The forces of nature never cease. 
If the forces of gravity should take a holiday, the world would 
fall to chaos. 

Man, as a part of the scheme of nature, has his tasks. Each 
day has its own program for us to perform, and in its perform- 
ance we find our happiness and excellence. 

384. The demand which nature makes upon our time and 
energy is not such an obligation as some harsh taskmaster makes 
upon a slave, but rather such a kindly disposition of honorable 
offices as a benevolent king might make. It is only when the 
scheme of nature is disordered by the greed and selfishness of 
men, so that the burdens of some are unjustly laid upon the 
shoulders of others, or when our tasks are multiplied by our own 
foolish or vicious desires, that our work becomes an irksome and 
oppressive weight. But even in this disordered world, where 
work is so unfairly distributed, the duty of industry is not only 
an obligation but a means of happiness. Some have to carry 
burdens of toil that are unjustly great, and others shirk their 
share; yet the danger and damage done by idleness is greater 
than the damage done by over-work. It is by diligent 
application of our powers that they are developed; only as we 
labor, do we grow in skill and fitness for our offices. 

385. Work is honorable, for it is the exercise of the powers 

179 



180 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

which alone give us our dignity and place in the order of crea- 
tion. 

It is most unfortunate, and much to be regretted, that work 
of any useful kind should be regarded as beneath the dignity of 
any man. The only measure of the dignity of any task is its 
necessity and its difficulty. The thing that needs to be done 
is the great thing; and the harder it is, the more honor is due to 
him who does it. 

386. It is much to the discredit of our wisdom that our efforts 
are so largely directed to escape from work, rather than to make 
work more agreeable and more efficient. 

The incessant clamor for shorter hours, lighter tasks and 
higher pay is sometimes a just demand; but, for the most part, 
it is misdirected, and based on a false conception of the place of 
work in the scheme of nature. If some of this agitation and 
effort were directed to improving the conditions under which 
labor is done, to promoting interest and pride in good work, 
to a fair consideration of the interests common to all the people, 
much more progress would be made. 

387. Nothing else can do so much to solve the problems of 
labor, to increase the happiness of workers, as can be done by 
increasing the pride and interest of workers in their work. So 
long as work is regarded as a hateful task, or at best as a dull 
drudgery, the price paid for wages, so long will men be discon- 
tented. In so far as we take interest in the work itself, joy in 
the things created, and pride in the skill exhibited in the results 
of our effort, just so far shall we attain to the right view of 
labor, and find in industry the use and beauty which it undoubt- 
edly is able to afford. 

388. The relations between labor and capital is a vast and com- 
plex subject, which we must consider under social duties, but it 
is well to notice here that the basis of all right relations to our 
fellowmen is a right conception of our own personal duty, and 
the diligent application of our own powers to the tasks assigned 



PERSONAL DUTIES 181 

to us is the first duty in this matter ; and this duty will be made 
attractive by the thought that our tasks are not a hardship but 
the only means to excellence and joy. Diligence in our work is 
a duty, but it is also a privilege and an honor. 

THRIFT 

389. Closely related to the duty of diligence is thrift; for 
if we are to labor for good results, it is evident that these results 
should be conserved, and wisely used. Waste is stupid, it is the 
vice of the foolish and the ignorant. Sometimes the folly which 
shows itself in prodigality has its source in vanity; we waste 
our substance to be seen of men ; sometimes it springs from lack 
of self-control, — we yield to the clamor of appetite, or other 
desires, against the protest of our judgment; and sometimes it 
is simply carelessness; we fail to guard the results of our labor 
from destruction and decay. Whatever may be the source of 
our prodigality, it is a vice that is not only stupid but degrading; 
for it destroys the defenses against manifold temptations. Aris- 
totle pointed out this danger. "Most prodigals," he says, "be- 
come greedy and grasping, because they wish to spend at their 
will. Their own resources are soon exhausted, they must needs 
procure others: and as they scarcely take thought about dignity 
and honor, they appropriate without scruple, and as they can." 

390. Franklin was the great apostle of thrift. "Be economical, 
and independence shall be thy shield and buckler, thy helmet 
and crown; then shall thy soul walk upright, nor stoop to the 
silken wretch because he hath riches ; nor pocket an abuse because 
the hand that offers it wears a ring set with diamonds." 

The Proverbs of Poor Richard are well worthy of consider- 
ation, and should be more familiar than they are. 

"A fat kitchen makes a lean will." 

"Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them." 

"It is foolish to lay out money to purchase repentance." 

"When the well is dry. we know the worth of water." 



1 82 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

The moral value of thrift is well illustrated in his discourse 
on the danger of debt. 

"He that goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing. Alas! think 
well what you do when you run in debt: you give another 
power over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will 
be ashamed to see your creditor: you will be in fear when you 
speak to him: you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking exuses, and 
by degrees come to lose your veracity, and sink into base down- 
right lying. For lying rides on debt's back. A freeborn man 
ought not to be afraid to see or speak to any man living. But 
poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. It is 
hard for an empty bag to stand up right.' ' 

AVARICE 

391. But the vice of prodigality is not so bad as avarice. 
Prodigality is bad rather in its consequences than in itself, but 
avarice is essentially a vice. To quote again from Aristotle: 

"Avarice is more natural to man than prodigality; for most 
of us prefer keeping what we have than giving it away. . . . 
Avarice consists of two principal elements: defect of giving, 
excess of receiving. Some show more excess of receiving, some 
more defect of giving. Thus do all those who are branded by 
the name of stingy, shabby, mean, sin through a defect of giving; 
yet they do not covet, nor would they take what belongs to 
others. Other misers, on the contrary, may be known by their 
grasping propensities, taking all they can get: for example, all 
those who engage in ignoble speculations, usurers and all those 
who lend small sums at large interest, — all people who take where 
they should not take, and more than they ought to take. Lust 
for the most shameful lucre seems to be the common vice of all 
degraded hearts: there is no infamy they are not willing to 
endure if they can make a profit." 

392. To the same effect is the injunction of Jesus, "Take 



PERSONAL DUTIES 183 

heed and beware of covetousness," and the statement of the 
apostle, "The love of money is a root of all evil." 

393. Thrift is the happy mean between the extremes of waste 
or prodigality, on the one side, and avarice on the other ; and its 
importance is impressed by consideration of the evils that attend 
either of these extremes. 

SINCERITY 

394. The duties we have thus far considered, Temperance, 
Industry and Thrift, have chiefly to do with our relation to 
external things. There are other duties still more strictly per- 
sonal, more distinctly due to our own development of character. 

Among the most important of these is Sincerity. This is per- 
haps most properly conceived of as a virtue — a state of mind, 
rather than a duty — a definition of conduct; but, as we have seen, 
all virtues have their corresponding duties, and sincerity is a 
duty of no small importance. As a duty, sincerity may be defined 
as the constant intention to be just what we seem to be, or more 
accurately to seem to be just what we are. It is the opposite of 
false pretense, hypocrisy and deceit. Some of its synonyms are 
candor, frankness, straight-forwardness, — all of them peculiarly 
attractive graces. 

395. It is to be regarded as especially a personal duty because 
it has its basis in our confidence in our own integrity. It is not 
possible to be sincere when we mistrust the honesty of our own 
intentions. When we allow our vanity or selfishness to blind 
our minds, we are rarely so self-deceived that we do not know 
that we are deceived, rarely so blinded but what we are conscious 
of more insight than we accept. Insincerity is chiefly the act of 
our will in accepting the biased picture of things presented dimly 
by our imagination as the truth, when we have reason to suspect 
that it is not the whole truth. We rarely attempt to deceive 
others without first partially deceiving ourselves; then having 



184 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

accepted a distorted view in ourselves we easily consent to a still 
more distorted view being given out to others. 

Thus we trace outright falsehood to the lack of sincerity in 
our own mind. Sincerity is the only permanent basis of veracity. 
Only the man who "speaketh the truth in his heart" can be 
trusted to speak it also with his lips. 

COURAGE 

396. The connection between sincerity and courage is not 
obvious on the surface, but it is none the less a very real and 
close connection. It is notorious that a liar is always a coward, 
and the reason is not hard to discover. The liar has no confi- 
dence in himself, no faith in his own statements, even his state- 
ments to himself. He has no good ground of assurance that he 
is on the side of truth and right, and therefore lacks the incen- 
tive to stand firm in the maintenance of his position. But the 
man who is sincere, whose conviction is genuine, whose purposes 
are founded on clear eyed and honest view of truth, cannot give 
them up, cannot consent to compromise. No matter what the 
consequences, he must hold fast to his integrity. This is courage. 

397. We sometimes distinguish between physical and moral 
courage, but the distinction is misleading. There is but one 
kind of courage, that is the maintenance of our purpose against 
opposition. If that opposition be physical, such as the fear of 
pain or death the courage necessary to oppose it is called physical 
courage — courage against physical opposition. If the opposing 
forces be fear of disgrace, loss, or the allurements of pleasure, 
the courage is called moral courage. 

398. Moral courage is of the higher rank only because the fear 
of pain or physical injury is stronger in those whose physical 
welfare is dearer to them than their sense of honor or their devo- 
tion to virtue ; while the loss of their good name, the tarnishing 
of their honor, is to men of higher excellence the much more 



PERSONAL DUTIES 185 

serious object of fear. 

399. The Greeks gave courage a place among the four cardinal 
virtues though Plato qualified his judgment of it by the phrase 
"of a citizen," showing that he had in mind especially the quali- 
ties of good citizens, rather than of good men generally. 

He defines courage however very much as we have conceived 
of it in its relation to sincerity. 

"I mean," said he, "that Courage is a kind of Salvation. 

Salvation of what? 

Of the opinion of things to be feared, of what they are, and of 
what nature which the law implants through education; and I 
mean by the words, 'under all circumstances' to intimate that in 
pleasure and in pain, or under the influence of desire or fear, a 
man preserves and does not lose this opinion." 

He then gives an illustration from the work of the dyer, dying 
woolen goods so that the color cannot be washed out, and con- 
cludes thus. — "Our object in selecting and educating our soldiers 
is to prepare them to take the dye of the laws in perfection ; and 
the color of their opinion about danger and every other opinion 
was to be indelibly fixed by their nurture and training, and not 
to be washed away by such potent lyes as pleasure — mightier 
agent by far in washing the soul than any soda or lye, — or by 
sorrow, fear, and desire which are mightiest of all other solvents. 
And this sort of universal saving power of true opinion in con- 
formity with law about real and false dangers, I call and main- 
tain to be courage, unless you disagree." 

We certainly do not disagree, but say 'amen' to this definition. 

400. The particular phases of courage denoted by such terms 
as fortitude, bravery, boldness, daring, intrepidity, valor, hardi- 
hood, mettle and pluck should be carefully discriminated in order 
to gain a just appreciation of courage as a virtue and as a duty. 

401. We need not enumerate in detail all the duties which 
might be classed as personal. Such an enumeration would indeed 
be of no great value unless made by each one for himself. That 



r86 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

would be a most profitable exercise. 

The purpose of our present study is rather to get correct con- 
ceptions of the leading qualities of soul which are essential to the 
highest possible self-realization, and the duties by which those 
qualities find expression and development. These special duties 
which we have considered may be taken as sufficient to indicate 
in outline the whole field of obligation to ourselves. Their con- 
sideration leads to the question of means and methods by which 
we may fit ourselves for these and all other duties. That is 
education. 

EDUCATION 

402. The duty of right thinking implies the duty of developing 
and training our thinker — our mind. If it be our duty to pre- 
serve bodily health and to cultivate physical strength and beauty, 
still more is it our duty to give the same care and cultivation to 
our soul. 

403. This development and training of the soul — the intellect 
and feelings and will, is the only proper notion of education. 
The cultivation of any particular faculty — the training of the 
soul to any particular function may be a part of education, but is 
not in itself education. 

The specialist who can design a good bridge or discuss meta- 
physics or criticise poetry may be useful, but is not necessarily 
educated, except in a partial and lop-sided way. The scholarly 
boor, the learned ass, are caricatures of education. 

They may be good workmen; so may a good hostler be a good 
workman, but education means more than any such skill of using 
a currycomb or a book, and there is no posible advantage to be 
gained by destroying a well established definition of the term by 
extending it over fields so diverse that they cannot be expressed 
by the same word. 

404. Education as we use the word in ethics means — as it is 



PERSONAL DUTIES 187 

defined in Webster — "the systematic development and cultiva- 
tion of the natural powers, and the direction of the feelings, 
tastes and manners." This is surely enough to include in 
one term. 

405. The duty of such "cultivation of the natural powers" 
rests on the principle that these powers are a part — a most 
important part, of the endowment, the talents, committed to our 
care and use, the means and instruments by which we perform 
our work and attain to excellence and happiness. 

If there be any such thing as duty, any obligation, any respon- 
sibility resting upon us, then the care of our instruments, the 
sharpening of our tools by which our work must be done would 
seem to be a most fundamental duty. 

406. We must of course avoid the misconception of education 
which regards it as a certain process of schooling. Books and 
teachers are very useful aids to education, but they are nothing 
more, and the real cultivation of our powers is accomplished by 
our own wise use of those powers, — accomplished as all cultiva- 
tion is accomplished — by proper exercise. 

407. The special direction of our education may be determined 
by our circumstances, our purposes, our chosen vocation, or our 
individual taste, but the duty of mental culture, of the develop- 
ment of the powers and capacities of the soul is universal. It 
rests on every rational and responsible being in the very nature 
of his reason and responsibility. 

408. It is well to set distinctly before the mind some of the 
essential features of such education, to form an ideal of what 
constitutes a well developed soul. 

409. The constituent elements of education are information 
and discretion. Information includes knowledge of facts and 
principles, or the relations of things. Discretion is the ability 
to apprehend the relations, consequences and implications of 
things. 

410. Information is gained by investigation, by observation, 



1 88 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

and by the testimony of other investigators and observers. In- 
formation may be acquired rapidly, for all the discoveries and 
experiences of other men may be taken over into our minds by 
memory and become our own stock of knowledge, which is the 
material of information, and this material somewhat systematized 
and adjusted to the "apperceptive mass" already in our mind 
forms our minds, — gives direction and character to our thinking 
and this is what we mean by information. Discretion cannot be 
borrowed as knowledge may be. It is a quality of mind, a power 
to appreciate, to judge, to reason correctly and analyze com- 
pletely. It is by far the most important part of education, and 
the chief object of all mental culture. 

411. Wisdom is a broad term, denoting many things but its 
most essential meaning is the direction of conduct according to 
discretion. Education should, therefore, lead to wisdom; but 
alas ! too often misses the road. 



CHAPTER X 

SOCIAL DUTIES 

412. The statement that man is a social being may express only 
the platitude that he is gregarious, naturally seeking the compan- 
ionship of his kind. But properly understood it means much 
more than this. It means that man is so constituted that he 
reaches his full development only through fellowship with his 
fellow men. No man liveth to himself, for, whether he will or 
not, his life affects the life of others and is conditioned by the 
community of which he is a part. The fact that every man is a 
constituent part of a larger unit, and finds his completeness only 
in proper relations to the other parts of that unit, is the funda- 
mental fact in determining his social duties, and is also a most 
influential factor in determining all his duties. 

As we have already noticed, man is a part of the whole scheme 
of things ; and, as such, has relations to every thing in the whole 
universe, and his duties are dependent on all these relations. 

413. It is convenient to consider the duties that have regard 
chiefly to our relations to the community as a group by them- 
selves, because we can thus get more definite notions of their 
form, and a more impressive view of their obligation than can 
be gotten by the effort to look at all our relations to the universe 
at once. Even when we thus limit our field, we must be on our 
guard against such generalities as "social consciousness/ ' "tribal 
self," "national conscience, " and such other terms as may serve 
convenience as collective terms, but have no concrete reality 
behind them. It is obvious that there is no self but the personal 
self, no conscience nor consciousness but that of the individual 
soul. The duty of the community or state is in reality the duties 
of all the individual members of that community taken collec- 
tively, or regarded as acting in an organized capacity. The 

189 



i 9 o THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

influence exerted, consciously or unconsciously, by one mind 
upon another tends to produce a certain degree of similarity of 
views, and especially of feelings, in the whole group, so that 
they come to have certain features in common and thus conform 
to certain type which may be called the national type, or the 
tribal character; but such terms are convenient rather than sci- 
entific, and if taken literally lead to false and confusing concep- 
tions. 

414. The terms society, community, state, etc., need also to 
be carefully defined. They are by their very nature somewhat 
elastic, meaning now more and now less according to their con- 
text or connection of thought, but, on the whole, they are fairly 
definite in their meaning. 

415. Society may be defined as a collective group of persons 
forming a community having certain mutual relations and corre- 
lative duties to each other. A community is any such group of 
persons or families having certain common interests, possessions 
or duties. It is rather more definite than society, and emphasizes 
the partnership or common possession of the group. 

416. The state is a community organized under a definite con- 
stitution, defining, either in writing or by tradition, the rights 
and duties and offices of the various members of the community 
so organized. 

The state is a more formal and more artificial institution than 
a community, and the obligations which it imposes on its mem- 
bers are largely determined by the consent of those members. 

Whether the origin of the state is to be thought of as a "social 
contract" or as the result of natural evolution due to man's 
nature — especially his social instincts, in either case its functions 
are very similar to those of a partnership or corporation volun- 
tarily formed for certain purposes. 

417. The objects of the institution of the state may be gener- 
ally stated in the familiar terms of the preamble to our national 
constitution, "To establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, 



SOCIAL DUTIES 19 r 

provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare 
and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity. ,, 

418. Almost all of these are distinctly ethical purposes. They 
have to do, not with our wealth and outward estate directly, 
but rather with the conditions under which the individual may 
realize his own highest self. 

419. The duties in relation to the state are of two kinds; first, 
the duties belonging to each citizen because of his membership 
in the body politic, and second, the duties of the whole commun- 
ity acting in their organized capacity, — as a state. 

420. In all such partnerships, where a group of persons unite 
for the prosecution of any common purpose, there must be the 
surrender of some part of each person's rights and freedom of 
action. In lieu of these surrendered rights, he receives the assur- 
ance of protection in the rights he has retained; he surrenders 
part of his property for the greater security of what he has left, 
on the understanding that the other citizens shall surrender also 
a fair amount of theirs, both to be used for the general welfare 
of all. 

421. The most obvious duty of the citizen is loyalty to the 
state; which is essentially faithfulness to his contract. To pay 
one's taxes, to keep the laws and to respect constituted authority 
are, in all normal conditions, the most obvious of duties. To 
perform such public duties as may fall to one in the maintenance 
of the order thus constituted, to select the best men to office, to 
consider the best interests of the state. To take such offices as 
may be assigned, and execute "public office as a public trust" is 
a duty no less obvious, but more often neglected. In a govern- 
ment such as ours, where the authority and responsibility of pub- 
lic affairs is vested in the whole people and exercised by represen- 
tatives chosen by them, it is especially important that each citizen 
give his best attention to political questions as they rise in the 
changing conditions of his time, and that he use his best efforts 
to form right opinions and to propagate them, and to see that 



i 9 2 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

they are enforced by good laws well executed. 

422. It is greatly to be regretted that the affairs of state have 
been left so largely to men who put themselves forward for their 
own selfish purpose. The evil consequence of this is that the 
function of government is not respected as it should be, and the 
very name of politician almost a term of contempt. 

The earnest words of Job Hedges on this subject are wise and 
timely : — 

423. "There is no problem before the American people today, 
whether it be that of monopoly, grinding the face of the poor 
by the rich, the robbing of the public treasury, or whatever form 
the complications of life may assume, that equals, for a moment, 
the far-reaching and final importance of protecting the method 
of establishing the public will by an honest ballot. That ballot 
represents the strife of centuries. It stands for the struggles 
of the human race for freedom. It is the personification, or 
should be, of American life. Not only should the casting of the 
ballot be protected by law, but there should be a recognized 
standard of moral conduct in the community which will not tol- 
erate the violation of the right of another by the casting of an 
unlawful ballot. That standard should be so high on the part 
of men of all classes that to violate it would bring about imme- 
diate condemnation. . . . The man who does not vote 
should be disfranchised. ,, 

424. To die for one's state is sometimes one's duty; to live for 
it is a constant obligation. To achieve liberty is heroic, to pre- 
serve it, wisdom. 

425. But while the general obligation of loyalty and obedience 
to the laws of the land are, in all normal conditions, most obvi- 
ous duties, the specific demands included in such obligation are 
not always clear. 

It seems simple enough to agree that we surrender certain 
of our rights as individuals, in our contract with our neighbors, 
in order to form the state; but personal rights are very complex 



SOCIAL DUTIES i 9 3 

affairs. They are interwoven with the rights of others, en- 
tangled in social customs, incorporated in blood relationships, 
and otherwise so blended with the various institutions of society 
that they are extremely difficult to define, and harder still to 
separate. The notion that we surrender part of our rights as 
we may contribute part of our money, is a very misleading con- 
ception, as we have found in all practical attempts at framing 
constitutions of states. 

426. In the very best schemes of government, there must be 
left a large element of compromise, a tacit agreement to each 
endure a reasonable amount of injustice at times in the faith 
that, on the whole, we shall get what is due to us. 

427. The most obvious danger in all free government — that is, 
government which is practically the "government of the people 
by the people," is the danger of the majority — for the majority 
is "the people" when it comes to an issue, — shall impose on the 
minority, and unjustly constrain them. Such danger becomes 
very serious when the state is composed of different races, or dif- 
ferent religions, or in any way of classes widely separated in their 
sympathies. 

428. The usual means employed for the protection of the min- 
ority is a written statement specifying the rights and privileges 
that are guaranteed to every citizen. Such a "bill of rights" was 
the "Magna Charta," which is a great landmark in the history 
of the government. "The Rights of Man" framed by the revo- 
lutionist of France, and the bill of rights prefixed to many of 
our state constitutions are examples of this means of protection 
for the unsurrendered rights of the citizen. For the most part 
such guarantees have been respected, but there always remains 
the fact that, in the ultimate appeal to physical force, the advan- 
tage is greatly on the side of the majority. The only absolute 
and permanent guarantee of justice is in the moral sentiment — 
the consciences — of the majority. 

And for this reason the duty of judicious reflection on the 



194 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

ethical principles involved in legislation is of the first importance 
— more important than all considerations of expedience, or the 
letter of the laws. 

429. The instinct of fair play, of sympathy, and the spirit of 
magnanimity are our chief defence against the tyranny of the 
majority; in fact, in the last analysis, they are the only defense 
we have. 

430. The most serious ethical problem for the individual in 
relation to the state is the question how far can he properly 
obey the law of the state when it conflicts with his moral judg- 
ment and his conscience? For example, what is a Quaker's duty 
in regard to war? His own conviction is that war is always 
wrong; but his state is at war; to refuse to aid his state is in 
some measure to aid the enemy ; to refuse to bear arms but pay 
tax that someone else may be hired in his place seems a poor evas- 
ion. What then shall he do ? The only general answer to such 
questions seems to be that in the pathological condition of society 
it is impossible to follow the laws that are suitable to normal 
conditions, and we must compromise, — must take one or other 
horn of the dilemma, neither of which is free from its embarrass- 
ment. We must do as physicians do in puzzling cases, treat the 
symptoms and wait for developments to reveal principles. But 
this does not imply that such questions can be settled by mere 
considerations of expedience, they must be answered ultimately 
by ethical principles which are eternal and absolute. 

431. Another question of ethics, which has to be answered on 
rare occasions, is that, of the duty of rebellion against the existing 
government. How much injustice may one rightly endure? and 
when does it become his duty to refuse submission, and when his 
duty to strive to overthrow the government? The term "moral 
compromise" has an evil sound, especially when we have so 
strongly held that the demands of moral law are absolute; but 
it is evident that, so long as the moral order of the world is 
unsettled, it will not be possible to follow rules of conduct that 



SOCIAL DUTIES 195 

are inflexible. Therein lies the distinction between a rule and a 
principle : the rule is a program of action, a principle is a state- 
ment of relations. To do justice, to seek to promote the right, 
are principles of universal application, but to support and obey 
the existing authority is a rule, applicable only under certain 
conditions and within fixed limits. 

432. The obligation to promote the cause of justice makes it 
our duty to refuse submission, and even to rebel, when by so 
doing we may reasonably hope to promote the cause of justice 
and enhance the general welfare. 

433. When we look further into the functions of the state we 
find some important ethical questions involved in its very consti- 
tution. The most fundamental of such questions is that of the 
limits of its moral obligation. Its obligation to establish justice, 
to protect life and property, to secure to each man the free exer- 
cise of his powers, and the free use of all that he earns seems 
plain and obvious. 

434. But to promote the general welfare is a very broad pur- 
pose, not easy to define. It is practically settled in most states 
by expediency; and most of the discussion as to what the state 
may do and what it may not do is rarely grounded on anything 
deeper than considerations of convenience. State ownership of 
public utilities, for example, is advocated or opposed according 
to the supposed advantage to be derived from that arrangement. 
Where the proposed function does not involve anything more 
than commercial advantage, it may very well be considered only 
on that basis; but most questions as to the scope and offices of 
government are more complex, and involve, by implication at 
least, some ethical principles that are important. 

For example; compulsory education, prohibition of liquor 
traffic, compulsory vaccination and all efforts of the state to 
prevent crime, or sickness or poverty. What are the limits be- 
yond which the individual's rights and liberties should not be 
encroached upon? 



196 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

435. However well we may be satisfied with these laws, there 
is evidently a limit to the application of the principles involved 
in them, and possible extremes to which no one would be willing 
to see them carried. No one would seriously propose to kill all 
the degenerates who are undesirable citizens, nor to exterminate 
contageous disease by destroying all those who have the disease. 
If we may vaccinate for the protection of the community, why 
not go farther and kill for the same good purpose? If we may 
prohibit the sale of alcohol, why not tobacco? And if tobacco, 
why not pie ? It is a question of degree, and must be settled by 
that general judgment on the whole situation which we call com- 
mon sense. 

436. As a matter of fact, this is the only practical basis on 
which the limits and methods of government have ever been 
settled, or can be. Theories as to the divine right of the state, 
whether such right is vested in the king, or in all the people or 
elsewhere, are interesting questions, but chiefly academic. They 
have never had much influence on the institutions of the state. 
The practical politician is justified in some of his contempt for 
the "literary fellows" who frame ideal laws for very unideal 
conditions. 

437. The fact is that the art of government is much older than 
the science; and men still deal with public affairs as they have 
always done, according to their instincts and impulses ; they seek 
safety and their own interests by the instinct of self-preservation, 
and, for the most part, deal fairly with their neighbors from the 
instinct of justice. These impulses, and others involved in gov- 
ernment, became fixed by habit and custom, long before men 
began to reason about them. This indicates that the most im- 
portant data of social science are the actual institutions men 
have set up; and also that the security for justice to the individ- 
ual, proper restraint of authority and respect for law and order, 
lies in the moral health or virtue of the people, rather than in 
any rules that can be framed and confirmed by oath or bonds. 



SOCIAL DUTIES 197 



WAR 



438. The relations between different states are the occasion of 
some perplexing ethical problems. The whole great science of 
international law is devoted to the definition of these relations 
and the rights and duties which spring from them. 

It is of course too wide a field for any considerable attention 
in this place, but we may gain some general notion of the ethics 
of international relations by the consideration of one question — 
the greatest question of all political ethics, — the question of war, 
or rather the questions of war, for they are many. The princi- 
pal ones are, Is war ever right? What are the occasions in 
which war is justifiable? What is the duty of the individual in 
regard to a war which he does not deem right ? 

439. In considering the first of these questions, we observe that 
there are some very intelligent and reasonable men — not fanatics 
— who hold that war is always wrong, that no provocation can 
be great enough to justify the deliberate killing of our fellow 
men. This view is mostly, if not always, based on the literal 
interpretation of the precepts of Jesus, "But I say unto you, that 
ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right 
cheek, turn to him the other also." Whether the teaching of 
Jesus, taken as a whole, justifies the literal interpretation of such 
passages may be doubted ; at all events, very few will deny that 
there may be occasions when it is the duty of the state to take up 
arms, and the duty of each citizen to support the war. 

440. If self defense is ever a duty for the individual, there is 
no apparent reason why the same necessity should not make it 
the duty of the state to defend the common rights of the com- 
munity. If it is right for the state to punish individual offend- 
ers against the common welfare, it would seem to be right for it 
to punish and drive off offenders who come as an organized 
body, with arms in their hands. Moreover, if the state has 
any right to exist it would seem to imply the right to maintain 



iq8 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

its existence by self defense. And if it has any functions, such as 
the maintenance of justice, it must be granted the right to use 
the means necessary for the performance of those duties. Such 
considerations have satisfied almost all men that there are occas- 
ions on which it is the duty of the state to go to war ; and, as a 
corollary to this, the duty of maintaining and training soldiers for 
such occasions is established. 

441. But when may a state make war? What is just provoca- 
tion to an appeal to arms? This is a much more difficult ques- 
tion. It must be conceded that so serious an act as the deliberate 
and voluntary destruction of men's lives cannot be undertaken 
lightly nor unadvisedly — cannot be justified by any slight 
occasion or other than the most imperative necessity. 

442. The interests at stake must be essential to the nation's 
very existence, or to the maintenance of its most sacred obliga- 
tions. This rule alone would condemn many, perhaps most, of 
the wars of history. When those wars are remote enough for 
us to see their causes undimmed by the smoke of passion, 
prejudice and ignorance, they appear to have been caused chiefly 
by the greed and vanity and lust of glory or revenge, especially 
of kings and other rulers. 

443. Moreover the incitements to war are very largely arti- 
ficial, — the pomp and spectacular display of armed hosts with 
glittering arms, and splendid banners, brilliant uniforms and 
stirring music, the emotional appeal of song and story setting 
forth the glory of the military hero and the valor of the regi- 
ments; the traditions of the nation's history and all the glamor 
of romance and chivalry, and the social eminence so long accorded 
to the profession of arms, all these combine to give tremendous 
stimulus to the fighting instincts already greatly intensified in 
man by his necessary conflicts with his environment. 

444. It is not surprising that where all these exciting influences 
are constantly at work, and are ever available for the rousing 
gf the spirit of war, that war may easily break out on slight 



SOCIAL DUTIES 199 

occasion, and be entered into with such zeal and fierceness as 
calm reason would not for one moment justify. 

445. For thousands of years these circumstances have occa- 
sioned and attended war, and it may be admitted that they have 
incidentally brought some advantages. 

The training of an army has taught the virtues of obedience, 
of mutual dependence and loyalty to definite duty ; it has taught 
the arts of organization and cooperation for a common purpose, 
it has developed the sense of community and an esprit de corps 
which binds society together. 

446. These and some other good results have sprung from the 
military habits of the world ; but these advantages are more than 
counterbalanced by the demoralizing influence of the abnormal 
conditions of the soldier's life, — his separation from his home and 
family, the depressing monotony of his life in camp or garrison, 
the lack of training in useful industry and the degrading charac- 
ter of his only function, the killing of his fellow man. 

447. This diminution of the industrial efficiency of a commun- 
ity, and the retarding of the moral development of men in their 
most important years, may be regarded as the first, and perhaps 
the greatest of the evils of war, and the machinery of war. Next 
to this may be placed the enormous burden of expense which war 
imposes on the people ; a burden that is for the most part borne 
by those least able to endure it. In its last analysis war means 
the scarcity of food, scant clothing, uncomfortable and unsani- 
tary homes, poor schooling for the children, and a generation 
handicapped in the struggle of life. 

448. The expense of modern warfare is beyond the power of 
imagination. It is estimated that the last great European war cost 
$25,000,000 a day. This represents the earnings of a thousand 
men in Europe for fifty years. It represents the cost of a thous- 
and good school houses. It represents five thousand good homes. 
All this poured out each day, making an aggregate of such enor- 
mous magnitude that we can hardly form a vague conception of 



aoo THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

it. And the implications of this vast expenditure are distress, 
and poverty, hunger and cold, and degradation suffered most by 
helpless age and innocent childhood, by the sick and friendless. 

449. But beyond these disadvantages and all this countless 
waste, far beyond these evils is the horrible slaughter of men by 
other men. The very thought of these hosts of men going forth 
to their day's work of butchery: bearing with them ingenious 
machines devised for murder, planning shrewdly how they can 
destroy most of their fellow men, makes one sick at heart. The 
fierce passions of hellish hate aroused by such a conflict, and the 
longlived evil spirit of revenge that is left in the hearts of men, 
the physical and mental agony of the field of battle, and the 
more pitiful distress of the widow and the orphan at home ; alto- 
gether the simple facts of war are hideous beyond all words to 
tell. "War is hell" said Sherman, but even that term does not 
convey the dreadful horrors of the real war. 

450. If such war is capable of being justified at all, it can 
only be by some such plea as that it is the only means of saving 
the most precious possessions of mankind. Certainly no commer- 
cial advantage can justify it. Certainly not any purpose of 
reprisal or revenge, certainly not any ambition for glory or 
renown. Yet these have been chief causes of w r ar. 

Only the protection of the most sacred rights, such as life or 
liberty or moral freedom would seem to warrant the enormity of 
war. 

451. But the ethical interest in war is not so much in the exact 
definition of just causes for war, as in the obligation resting on 
all nations to seek means of preventing war. 

It does not follow that, because at this particular date and 
circumstances we feel obliged to go to war, that therefore we are 
blameless. We certainly are not blameless if we have neglected 
or refused to use all reasonable means and efforts to avoid such 
circumstances. 

452. If a community allows its courts and machinery of justice 



SOCIAL DUTIES 201 

to oecome so utterly corrupt that the only means of defending 
their individual rights is by fighting for them, it may well be 
that the immediate occasion warrants the killing of one's neighbor 
to protect one's property or the honor of his family, but no civ- 
ilized community is justified in allowing such a condition to 
exist. 

We long ago discovered how to prevent the necessity of such 
appeals to brute force on the part of individuals or of tribes, or 
of federated states. Centuries ago the machinery of law and 
courts and police were sufficiently developed to make appeals to 
violence unnecessary. No state of the union has any occasion to 
support an army of defense against another state ; for the federal 
courts and the police power of the whole United States are 
charged with the duty of deciding on their respective rights and, 
if need be, compelling obedience to the mandates of the law. 

453. There is no sufficient reason why all the civilized nations 
of the world should not agree to form a court where all disputes 
between the states would be adjudicated, and an army whose 
function would be like that of police, simply to enforce the 
orders of the constituted authority. 

It is no new scheme, — no untried experiment. The United 
States have tried it out and found it practical and satisfactory. 
But whatever scheme or method may be best adapted to the 
existing circumstances, this much is certainly obligatory on the 
nations, that they use all reasonable efforts to devise some plan 
by which the rights of nations may be settled, as the rights of 
individuals and of tribes have so long been, by reason and law 
and the peaceable machinery of courts, and not by brutish force 
and inhuman slaughter. 

454. From this point of view war is always absolutely wrong, 
for there has been no war in Europe for a thousand years that 
settled any question as fairly as it could have been settled by such 
courts as they were quite able to create, And from this point 



202 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

of view, the iniquity of war grows greater year by year, because 
the plans for such a court are more intelligently formed and their 
feasibility more fully recognized. 



CHAPTER XI 
SOCIAL DUTIES — Continued 

THE COMMUNITY 

455. The ideal community is modeled on the family. No 
doubt the first conception of a community was literally a family, 
— a tribe, all the members of which were united by the ties of 
blood relationship. The tribal relation survived long after the 
actual kinship had ceased to be close enough to be a conscious 
bond. Mutual dependence and the obvious advantages of shar- 
ing some things in common served as a sufficient reason for 
maintaining certain definite relations between the individuals 
and families dwelling near together. But the social instincts 
form a stronger bond of union than considerations of conveni- 
ence: and, as society becomes more complex, and the advantages 
of mutual sympathy and help become less obvious, the need to 
cherish and cultivate the social instincts is increased. It is a 
serious loss to the ethical welfare of society when the formal 
regulations of the state or city diminish the sense of personal 
obligation for our neighbor's comfort and happiness. 

456. The minute regulations of a paternal government that 
provides for the nursing of the sick, the care of the poor, the 
housing of the homeless, the education and moral training of the 
young, are no doubt a blessing on the whole, but they inevitably 
tend to restrict and diminish the sense of neighborliness, the 
personal sympathy and interest in each other's welfare which are 
necessary to the best development of our own nature. 

To dwell for years in a community where one does not know 
his nearest neighbors seems an unnatural condition, and though 
it is sometimes forced upon us by the conditions of city life, it is 

203 



204 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

to be regretted and so far as possible obviated by all means in 
our power. To love one's neighbor is not to be confined to our 
own street or city, it is a universal obligation, but to be practi- 
cally kept must be exercised chiefly in regard to those who are 
physically near to us. 

457. The more obvious duties to our neighbor are fairly well 
defined and secured by the laws of the state. The ethical prin- 
ciples which underlie the laws against "whatsover doeth or may 
unjustly hinder my neighbor's wealth or outward estate' ! are 
general and well recognized ; but the obligation to promote the 
welfare of his inward estate is not less binding and of greater 
importance. His good name and his peace of mind cannot be 
fully protected by statutes, they must be cherished and promoted 
by the free and generous sympathy that springs spontaneously in 
a well regulated mind. 

458. It is in this relation that the minor virtues, or graces, such 
as courtesy, consideration and good nature, find their most fre- 
quent occasion. Such graces exert an influence like the genial 
warmth of the sunshine, not spectacular, nor demonstrative, but 
grateful, comforting and powerful. The true source of all 
courtesy is kindness. The rhyme of our infant school instruction 
is well worthy of a place in philosophic ethics: — 

"Politeness is to do or say 
The kindest thing in the kindest way." 

The forms of courtesy are largely conventional, but the essence 
is ethical. "There is in civility a principle which is essential, and 
a form which is arbitrary." To learn the conventionalities of 
polite usage is necessary that we may express the sentiments of 
respect and good will, as it is necessary to learn language to 
express our thoughts; and, while the supple grace of the dancing- 
master or the profuse mannerliness of the fop are bad form, be- 
cause they are exaggerated, the graceful art of true politeness is 
a noble accomplishment of the highest ethical v&lue. 



SOCIAL DUTIES 205 

459. The highest form of neighborliness is friendship. It is 
the realization of the best advantages afforded by our social 
nature and our fellowship with our kind. It comprehends the 
duties and responsibilities which we owe to all our neighbors 
and other more notable obligations which spring only from the 
more intimate relations that subsist only between those who are 
closely bound together by the bonds of congenial tastes and 
mutual affection. 

No virtues have been more widely recognized or more highly 
valued than those of friendship, no duties more commended than 
these. 

Aristotle, Cicero and Emerson are eminent examples of a host 
of writers who have devoted special attention to this subject, and 
their wise words should be Tamiliar to all intelligent men. Aris- 
totle, as we might expect, is the most philosophical in his treat- 
ment of the matter, Cicero more rhetorical and Emerson more 
colloquial and genial; together they present the various phases 
of the subject most completely. 

Aristotle's view presents the aspect of the subject most ger- 
mane to our present purpose. The following quotation may 
serve to give a hint of his conception of the matter. 

460. "The perfect friendship is that of virtuous people, and 
who resemble each other in their virtue; for these wish each 
other well, insomuch as they are good ; and I add that they are 
good in themselves. Those who wish their friends well from 
such a noble motive are the friends par excellence. Hence it is 
that the friendship of such generous hearts lasts as long as they 
remain good and virtuous themselves ; now virtue is a substantial 
and durable thing. Each of the two friends is in the first place 
good in himself, and he is, moreover good to all his friends, for 
good people are useful to each other, and also mutually agreeable 
to each other. Such a friendship unites, then, all the conditions. 
There is nothing more lovely. 

It is quite natural, however, that such friendships are very 



2o6 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

rare, because there are few people who have such a disposition. 

It requires, moreover, time and habit. The proverb is true 
which says that people can hardly know each other well, 'before 
they have eaten together bushels of salt/ In the same way per- 
sons cannot be friends before they have shown themselves worthy 
of affection, before reciprocal confidence is established. . . . 
Friendship, besides, consists much rather in loving than in being 
loved. To love, then, is the great virtue of friends: it is thus 
that the most unequal of people may be friends; their mutual 
esteem renders them equals." 

461. No other duties are more agreeable, on the whole, than 
those of friendship, but there are some obligations due to friend- 
ship that are extremely difficult. 

For example, it is often the duty of a friend to oppose the 
unworthy purposes of his friend, to refuse to consent to what the 
other, in a moment of weakness, or of unwonted stress, may 
consent to do or to be. The friend who will not let us rest in 
the low level of our discouragement or indifference is sometimes 
the same kind of a nuisance that a faithful conscience is: but no 
office of friendship is more gratefully remembered than the patient 
severity which goaded us up and out of our sloth and weakness 
and folly; that had faith in us when we had lost faith in our- 
selves, and cherished for us the high ideals which, for the mo- 
ment, we were ready to cast away. 

It is worth remarking that friendship is the finest test of that 
group of qualities which we include in the concept of the gentle- 
man. It is not so much the behavior of men toward women 
that is indicative of character, for that is so prescribed by an 
artificial code of chivalry, and so definitely fixed by the conven- 
tionalities of social life that it is only on extraordinary occasions 
that any considerable liberty of action is permitted ; but in the 
relations between equals, man to man, we have a fair field and 
no favors. 



SOCIAL DUTIES 207 

PROFESSIONAL DUTIES 

462. There are many relations of great practical importance 
in the life of a community that spring from our various employ- 
ments, and a large portion of our social duties are determined by 
these relations. 

These relations and their duties are sometimes fixed by agree- 
ment and defined by contracts, as, for example, most of our com- 
mercial transactions and industrial engagements. But in most 
cases they are fixed chiefly by custom, and sanctioned by the 
approval of the community, acting informally, but no less effici- 
ently, through influence of public opinion. 

463. The vocations which are dignified by the name of profes- 
sions have each its own code, which is a very positive definition 
of the duties required of each member of that profession. Such 
codes are rarely reduced to writing, or even expressed in set 
terms defining specific duties, but are rather regarded as concep- 
tions of the relation in which the member of that profession 
stands to the rest of the community. This relation being defined, 
the program of duty is derived from it by inference, but, for the 
most part, the definition of these duties is left to the individual, 
though the established customs of the time and place limit his 
freedom to rather narrow bounds. 

464. The traditions of professional honor and professional dig- 
nity are very strong, and are second only to our religious convic- 
tions in their influence on our conduct. They are among the 
most powerful incentives to promote the welfare of our neigh- 
bors. It is often asserted that these traditions are dying out, and 
that professional service is being reduced, more and more, to a 
purely business basis, — and are determined by the ordinary law 
of quid pro quo. If this is so, it is greatly to be regretted. There 
is something very fine and admirable in the conception of profes- 
sional service as something too dignified to be put upon the 
market, too personal to be bought and sold, too sacred to be 



2o8 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

given or withheld for any consideration of price. Fees are, 
according to this tradition, not pay, but an honorarium, — a gift 
which the client offers as a token of his gratitude for a favor 
received — an expression of his appreciation, not so much of the 
service itself, as of the good will and kindness of the person 
rendering the service. 

The physician of the old school would scorn to send a bill 
for professional service, as a gentleman would disdain to ask his 
guest to pay for the hospitality of his house ; and the lawyer of 
the same traditional type was scrupulous to speak of such fees as 
he received as the "courtesy" or "kind remembrance" of his cli- 
ent. 

It may be doubted whether this traditional dignity was ever 
very generally maintained, but it is no small honor to the pro- 
fessions that they formed such high ideals, and, to a good degree, 
conformed their conduct to their ideals. 

465. The tendency of our own time is so strong toward the 
complete organization of society on a purely impersonal basis, 
toward the subdivision of all labor, and toward expressing all 
things in terms of money value, that the old traditions are harder 
to maintain; personal relations count for less, and professional 
codes are more mechanical, more like the rules of a corporation. 
The physician sends his bill, just like the plumber's, with its 
items duly specified in time and labor and use of tools ; the law- 
yer commends his efficiency on your behalf by the promptness 
w T ith which he attends to the collection of his fees from you. 
All this is called "good business," and perhaps it is, but there 
are other interests in life that are of greater value than "busi- 
ness," and it is greatly to the honor of the professions that, in 
spite of the increasing difficulties in the way, they have held 
fast to their high ideal, and have not become wholly commercial 
but, — especially the physicians, — have put their services so large- 
ly at the disposal of the community, and give so freely of their 
time and skill and energy for the good of their neighbors, with 



1 



SOCIAL DUTIES 209 

no demand or expectation of remuneration. 

466. The gospel ministry, or priesthood, is, by its very nature, 
much protected from the temptation to become commercial. It 
is not only undignified to put religious functions on a business 
basis, but it is utterly incongruous. To sell the sacred offices 
of religion for money is repulsive to the dullest conscience, and 
to hire the services of a spiritual adviser seems a travesty on relig- 
ion. The meanness of human nature in the pulpit and in the 
pew has often smirched the dignity of the sacred profession, but 
on the whole the ministry has maintained its integrity, and kept 
its offices free from commercialism so far as to command for that 
profession as a whole a degree of confidence and veneration not 
accorded to any other in the world. 

467. The term profession is no longer applied exclusively to 
the three vocations formerly so designated — the ministry, medi- 
cine and law — but is still restricted to those employments which 
require a liberal education, such as teaching, engineering, pharm- 
acy and many others, each of which has its own peculiar code 
prescribing, more or less minutely, what is and what is not "good 
form. ,, The traditions of these younger professions are not so 
fully developed as those of the older, but are important factors in 
the moral development of every community. All the good tradi- 
tions of professional conduct should be carefully conserved, and 
not lightly set aside, for their influence extends to the very foun- 
dations of society and permeates its entire structure. Their 
special value lies in the fact that they give place and honor to the 
personal relations, which are so important to our welfare, but 
extremely difficult to define by law r or to duly recognize in the 
more formal organization of community life. 

468. The obligations which are based on contracts are not so 
difficult to define, but they are always in danger of being mis- 
conceived, through the confusion of legal and moral obligation, 
or mistaking of custom for righteousness. Laws are at best only 
the very general expression of the moral judgment of the people. 



no THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

It is impossible to frame them so as to express even this minutely 
enough to cover every case that may arise: and they are fixed — 
static — while life is active, — dynamic. It often happens, there- 
fore, that while a law may be good in general, it is unfair in 
particular cases, or a law that was wise when formulated, is no 
longer suitable to changed conditions, and therefore no system 
of laws can ever take the place of the principles of ethics. 

469. As society becomes more completely organized, more com- 
plex in its relations and therefore more difficult for the individ- 
ual to discover and apply the principles of ethics to his own con- 
duct, the stronger is the tendency to substitute what is legal for 
our notion of what is right, and to do many things that are 
essentially unfair but not forbidden by "the rules of the game." 

470. Such cases arise most frequently in connection with bus- 
iness transactions, and are often extremely perplexing. The 
decision of such cases belongs chiefly to the sciences of casuistry, 
but there is always the great fundamental principle to be observ- 
ed, that is that moral obligation must always take precedence 
over any statutes whatsoever, — no plea that it is "nominated in 
the bond" can ever justify an act or claim that it is essentially 
unfair or unkind. 

"Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you do ye even 
so to them," is a precept more obligatory than all the laws of the 
statute books. The much vexed questions of the regulation of 
"big business," the limitations of corporations, and the multi- 
form disputes of labor and capital must be settled, if settled at 
all, by the cordial acceptance of the golden rule as the ultimate 
standard of all social duty. 

BENEVOLENCE 

471. There is a large group of social duties that cannot be 
determined by the standard of justice, unless we stretch the 
term justice to include benevolence, — which, indeed, we may 
properly do, for my neighbor has a real claim on my good will 



SOCIAL DUTIES an 

as well as on my honesty. But the "quality of mercy is not 
strained, " i. e., it is not forced or compulsory; it is free, spon- 
taneous, and springs from sympathy and love of persons, not of 
abstractions like justice or honesty. 

To "do good as we have opportunity unto all men," is as 
high a duty as to "provide things honest in the sight of all men." 
The appeal to benevolence is made on the ground of my neigh- 
bor s need, not of his rights; it is an appeal, not a demand; its 
measure is my affection, not his desert. 

472. The obligation of charity is just as positive as the obli- 
gation of justice, but it is measured by a different standard. 
These social duties are sometimes presented as having three 
degrees of obligation. 1st, one may not do evil to one who has 
done good to him. 2d, He may not do evil to one who has done 
no evil to him. 3d, he should do good even to those who have 
done evil to him. This last is the teaching of Jesus, a duty little 
recognized before his time, never fully performed in any com- 
munity, yet, beyond all doubt, it is the only rule that satisfied 
the judgment of an enlightened conscience. 

It should be noted that benenvolence — as the word itself 
implies — is a matter of right state of mind : it is good will not 
merely good deeds. It has its foundation, not in conduct, but in 
the affections, and its ultimate demand is to "love thy neighbor 
as thyself." 

THE FAMILY 

473. The family is the oldest institution in the world, and 
the most important. We call it an institution because it is the 
product of voluntary agreement between two or more persons. 

It is founded on marriage which is a voluntary union of man 
and woman so that "they are no longer twain but one flesh." 

It has its basis in nature, yet not as an obligation which one 
may not escape, but which he may or may not assume. 

474. Marriage is a contract, and, like all other contracts, it 



212 THE PHILOSOPHY OP CONDUCT 

imposes certain obligations on the contracting parties which they 
may not violate. No other contract is so important, for on it 
depends, not only a large share of the happiness and welfare of 
the contracting parties, but the welfare of an endless line of 
progeny. The marriage contract involves the very springs of 
being and the destiny of the human race. 

475. The effects of marriage on the individual are the most 
important that we experience. "Whatever else marriage may 
do or fail to do," says Mr. Lecky, "it never leaves a man 
unchanged. His intellect, his character, his happiness, his way 
of looking on the world will all be influenced by it. If it does 
not raise or strengthen him, it will lower or weaken. If it does 
not deepen his happiness it will impair it. It brings with it 
duties, interests, habits, hopes, cares, sorrows and joys, that 
will penetrate into every fissure of his nature and modify the 
whole course of his life." 

It is highly proper that we should be warned that this rela- 
tion is "not to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly, but 
soberly, discreetly and in the fear of God," as the prayer-book 
puts it. 

476. In spite of its obvious solemnity, it is most often entered 
into with surprising levity and lack of forethought. A sudden 
impulse, a blinding passion or a mercenary motive are frequently 
the chief considerations presented to the mind. In most cases, 
no doubt, these are supplemented by a certain amount of real 
affection, and some appreciation of the responsibilities assumed; 
but too often these are much too slight to form a safe foundation 
for a union so permanent and so momentous. 

Our traditions on the subject of courtship and marriage are 
faulty; much of the romance of the tender affection is false and 
silly, and the sentiments on the whole subject artificial and hys- 
terical. 

It is by no means to be desired that the marriage relations 
should be considered only in the cold light of prudence and con- 



SOCIAL DUTIES 213 

venience. It would be false to our best instincts to suppress the 
sweet joys of courtship, the amiable sentiments and the poetry 
of the lover and his lass. To rob life of these would be like rob- 
bing the flowers of their perfume or the skies of the stars. We 
have not too much, but too little, of real sentiment and genuine 
poetry in life; but we have too much that is artificial, maudlin 
and merely sensuous. 

The ethical basis of a happy marriage must rest on something 
that will last through life, something that attracts respect and 
esteem. Real worth of character is the only loadstone that will 
keep its power to attract. 

477. To "fall in love" is an ominous phrase, for to fall into 
anything is a dangerous way to enter, and of all relations that 
should be entered sanely and discreetly, the marriage relation is 
the most important. 

Mr. Punch's famous skit, "Advice to those about to marry, 
Don't!" may be offered in all seriousness to those about to pre- 
cipitate themselves into that condition known as being in love. 

While the instincts of our social nature are the proper source 
of the impulse to marriage, they are safely followed only with 
the sanction of our judgment after fair consideration of the 
duties and responsibilities involved, and our ability to perform 
those duties. 

Such considerations involve not only our own personal inter- 
ests, but those of our partner and the community and, especially, 
those of the children that may be born to us. On this subject 
we commend the wise words of Mr. Lecky which are appended 
to this chapter. 

478. The duties of each member of a family depend in good 
degree upon the relations naturally belonging to each member, 
and also the relations more or less permanently fixed by the 
customs of the age and society to which we may belong. The 
offices of the husband and the wife in the management of the 
home are largely matters of conventionality, and are just now 



2i 4 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

the subject of much agitation and debate. The position of head 
of the family has been in all ages assigned to the man : the wife 
has been regarded as at best the junior partner, and very often 
not a partner at all, but anything from a slave to a domestic 
pet. As some compensation for this superior authority assumed 
by the man, he has been assigned the chief responsibility for the 
maintenance and welfare of the household. He is expected to 
support the family, as well as rule it, to protect it as well as 
govern it. 

These conventional distributions of the labors and responsibil- 
ities of the family are by no means perfect, and often work injus- 
tice to one or other party to the arrangement. T nev are, how- 
ever, very largely the result of social conditions that are complex 
and far reaching, and it is rarely possible to change such arrange- 
ments without unsettling more things than seem at first sight to 
be involved. For example, it seems on the face of it unfair to 
pay higher salaries to men than to women for the same service 
equally well done. Yet so long as we expect the man to sup- 
port the family, and in all things to bear the heavy end of the 
expense of social life, this fact must be considered in its relation 
to wages. So long as we regard it as bad form for a woman to 
support a husband, so long as the young lady is not willing to 
ask for an increase of salary because she wants to marry and 
can't afford to keep a husband on her present wages, so long will 
society feel justified in making a distinction in favor of the 
young man who has to say just that. In brief the social order is 
so intricate that it is impossible to adjust some defects without 
adjusting many other matters at the same time. 
479. This, of course, does not imply that we are to accept the 
present social order with its customs and conventions as inevi- 
table, but it does show that the short and easy methods of reform 
so confidently advocated by self-appointed reformers are not so 
simple as they seem. If man is to be dethroned from his state 
as the king and head of the house, the whole constitution of soci- 



SOCIAL DUTIES 215 

ety will have to be revised. Such revision cannot be made by 
legislation or by the revolt of woman, but may be made by the 
slower process of evolution gradually adjusting the relations 
more and more to the demands of justice and convenience. 

480. The relations of parent and child are grounded in nature. 
The long period of dependence of the child on the parent is not 
terminated by any fixed line of age or development; it shades 
off from absolute dependence to an indefinite subordination 
which finds its justification partly in gratitude due to the parent, 
and partly in the superior wisdom and experience of the parent. 
The importance of this subordination is attested by the common 
judgment of men, as shown in the laws and social customs of all 
ages. In every code of laws known to history the duty of respect 
for parental authority is emphasized. History also testifies that 
the decay of parental authority is one of the first indications of 
moral decline. In modern times we have come to depend less on 
legislation and more on moral suasion and the force of social 
custom to enforce this duty, but whatever means may be deemed 
most effective to its promotion the duty of respect to parental 
authority is, and ever must be, one of the fundamental pillars 
that support good social order. 

481. The most perplexing problem relating to the family is the 
question of divorce. The intention of the marriage relation is in 
its very nature permanent, and the severance of that relation 
is fraught with most lamentable consequences. Only the most 
disordered conditions can make divorce even a debatable ques- 
tion. Only when the obligations of the contract have been 
grossly violated already, can divorce be justified. The practical 
questions are how great must be the degree of such violation to 
justify divorce, and how is the divorce to affect the different 
parties in the case. 

482. It is universally admitted that adultery is sufficient 
ground for divorce, for that crime is, per se, a breaking of the 
contract, and considerations of equity and honor and physical 



216 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

safety alike demand release of the innocent party from the 
guilty one. But are there other offenses which though they are 
not, like adultery, direct violations of the marriage contract, 
are nevertheless of such a nature as to render the performance of 
duties of the contract impossible? 

483. It is on this point that the question of divorce must rest, 
and not on general considerations of character. A man may be 
a liar, a coward, a thief and an all-round villain, and yet be a 
tolerable husband ; but if his villainy be of such a nature as to 
violate the just claims of his marriage relation the question of 
divorce may rise. The chief grounds on which divorce may be 
advocated are willful desertion or other voluntary refusal to 
perform the duties implied in the marriage relation, abuse or 
intolerable offensiveness of character. The latter of these 
grounds is very indefinite, and differently interpreted in differ- 
ent states, some refusing to recognize anything short of actual 
danger to life, others admitting such trivial grounds as incom- 
patibility of temper. 

484. Whatever may be grounds of legislation or expediency, 
the ethical ground for divorce must be some very serious and 
irredeemable defect in the conduct of one or both of the con- 
tracting parties. 

The deplorable injury done to the parties divorced, the still 
more deplorable injustice to the children, and the general dam- 
age done to society by the profanation of the marriage vows 
make divorce, if justifiable at all, only justifiable as the least of 
two evils, both of which are very great. 

Such partial divorce as permits separation, but not the entire 
annulling of the marriage contract, is a much less serious evil, 
u ut even this means the failure of what should be the most potent 
means of blessing and success in life. 

485. The chief advantage of a careful study of the whole ques- 
tion of divorce is the profound impression thus produced of the 
supreme importance of discretion, forethought and sincerity in 



SOCIAL DUTIES 217 

assuming the bonds of matrimony. 

There is no possible excuse for the frivolous and ill-considered 
levity with which marriage is so often entered, and they are the 
copious source from which the appalling evils of divorce and 
domestic tragedies proceed. 

The chief means of checking the shameful prevalence of these 
evils is at this source; for in such close relations as those of the 
marriages ties it is especially true that "things ill begun make 
strong themselves by ill." 

486. The obligation of parents to provide for the welfare of 
their children is so obvious a duty, so strongly urged by instinct 
and affection as well as reason, that little need be said about it 
on the ground of ethics. But it should be noted that the im- 
pulses of parental affection, and even the instincts that impel us 
to protect and cherish our own offspring must be directed and 
controlled by reason. It may be doubted whether there are not 
more children injured by the unrestrained impulses of paternal 
affection than are hurt by cruelty. The spoiled child of doting 
parents, the pampered darling, whose will is never subdued to 
the authority of his superiors, is terribly handicapped for the race 
of life, a most disagreeable companion and likely to become an 
undesirable citizen. 

487. There is another relation involved in family life, as it is 
usually constituted, that is the relation of the household servants. 
It is the fashion now in certain quarters to repudiate this as a 
part of the special relations of domestic life, and to treat the 
duties of these workers as matters of contract on a purely com- 
mercial basis — so much work and so much wages being the whole 
of obligation on either side. Such a conception, instead of add- 
ing dignity to the servant's position, robs it of its most essential 
claim to honor and affection. 

Relations so intimate as those of household servants with the 
family can not be made impersonal or put upon a mere commer- 
cial basis. In the very nature of our human personality we have 



218 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

claims and obligations in relation to those associated with us in 
daily life that can never be expressed in terms of work and 
wages. Respect and courtesy must rest on some better basis than 
a contract, and sympathy and kindliness are a debt we owe to 
all, by virtue of relations established before contracts were in- 
vented. 

While definite agreement as to service to be rendered and 
wages to be paid is useful to avoid misunderstanding, and to 
protect both parties against greed and inefficiency, such agree- 
ments can never compass the whole relation nor take the place 
of ethical obligation. A fuller recognition of these obligations, 
and a more generous interpretation of them on the part of both 
masters and servants would do much to solve the much vexed 
situation known as the servant question. 



CHAPTER XII 



CASUISTRY 



488. Casuistry is a most respectable science unfortunately 
handicapped by a bad reputation. 

It is nothing more or less than an attempt to apply the prin- 
ciples of ethics to the actual problems of daily life. It is, as the 
name denotes, the science of cases, and has for its object a system- 
atic treatment of concrete cases of conduct according to the well 
established laws of ethics. 

489. The need of such a science is apparent. Our brief con- 
sideration of the factors of conduct and the principles of ethical 
philosophy must have made evident at least the profound and 
complex character of the varied rational activities which we call 
by the general name of conduct. It is evident that, however 
earnestly we may wish to be honest, it is not always easy to 
determine what honesty demands and what it forbids; or, how- 
ever loyal one may be in his devotion to duty, it is often extreme- 
ly difficult to determine just what one's duty is. 

Any rules that can be formulated to aid the moral judgment 
and guide us in right living should be regarded as a boon and 
blessing. Much better still if some system of rules can be devised 
that will cover all ordinary cases, and serve as a practical code 
of conduct. 

490. The need of some such science is more fully evidenced 
by the zealous but unsystematic efforts of innumerable moral- 
ists and reformers to frame rules for themselves and others in 
relation to certain particular lines of conduct. For example, 
the rule of total abstinence from alcohol, the objection to certain 
forms of popular amusements or the opposition to war under any 
and all circumstances. These are but a few of the many ques- 

219 



220 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

tions on which good men hold different opinions and on which 
rules are made which, whether wise or unwise, are rarely scien- 
tific, but rather are grounded on expediency or temporary inter- 
est, or, sometimes, on traditional views, the ground of which has 
long since disappeared. 

Moreover, in the complications of our present social life it is 
extremely difficult to analyze cases sufficiently to find the prin- 
ciple that should rule the case. 

491. It is certainly unfortunate that the science of casuistry 
has fallen into such disfavor that the very name is quite disreput- 
able and has become the synonym of sophistry and equivocation. 

It is hardly worth while to inquire into the history of the 
word, but one point should be remarked. There is an instinctive 
protest made by every free soul against the attempt to dictate to 
it. "Freedom of conscience" is a watchword with a splendid 
history. "The right of private judgment" has been consecrated 
by the blood of many martyrs. It is natural therefore that what- 
ever savored of rules to bind the conscience should arouse sus- 
picion and hostility. Such suspicion and such zeal for freedom is 
a good and wholesome thing, but like other good and wholesome 
things it may be carried to extremes and become absurd. And it 
would seem wise now to let the dead past bury its dead contro- 
versies and gird ourselves for the present task of guiding the 
perplexed and anxious conscience to the solution of its present 
problems. 

492. What we need above all else in the philosophy of conduct 
is just such consideration of cases of moral perplexity as the 
student of law gives to his cases, or the student of medicine to 
his. In neither of these fields do we attempt to reduce their 
principles to a code, or book of prescriptions labeled for each 
special pain or ailment, but we analyze and diagnose and seek to 
determine the principles involved and the relations affected in 
the case. Thus we gather knowledge and acquire skill in main- 
taining justice and promoting health. 



CASUISTRY 221 

493. There are an innumerable multitude of cases presented 
every day at the bar of human consciences, no two of them 
exactly similar, each demanding and receiving such answers as 
their circumstances seem to warrant, or the normal judgment of 
the individual is able to give. Yet the great majority at least of 
all these cases might be reduced to a few groups or classes in 
each of which groups some one well established principle should 
govern. Here for example are a hundred cases of business spec- 
ulation, all lying near the line that separates honesty from gamb- 
ling. If we can find the ruling principle, a definition of ethical 
law that is reliable and applicable we can easily apply it and 
relieve the uneasy conscience of the honest man, and convict the 
gambler of his crime. But so long as such questions are decided 
by the vague appeals to a bewildered and biased moral judgment, 
guided only by a perverted moral instinct we cannot hope for 
anything more definite than the superficial judgment, "I don't 
see anything wrong in it," or on the other hand, "It somehow 
doesn't seem right to me." 

Each profession and calling has its own peculiar problems — 
its cases, which each man must decide, and which we are under 
obligation to decide, not according to our spontaneous judgment 
or impulse or interest, but according to eternal principles of 
righteousness. It is to aid the individual in the solution of such 
problems that the science of casuistry is needed. 

494. It is not possible, nor desirable, to relieve the individual 
conscience of responsibility. Each human soul must choose its 
own course, and meet in its own person the consequence of its 
own conduct; for however we may share a common environ- 
ment, and be influenced by the sympathy of our fellow-men, the 
ultimate unit of mankind is the individual person. No man can 
assume the pain that comes from my rheumatic joint, or live by 
the food I eat; no more can any man take the responsibility of 
my conduct or have his destiny determined by my judgment. 

Nevertheless we may help one another to wise decisions, may 



222 . THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

point out the path of wisdom, and enlighten the moral judgment. 

495. It is quite impossible to frame a code of morals so com- 
plete as to answer the purpose of a manual of conduct in which 
the proper action is prescribed for every possible case. Such 
manuals for even so simple a field as social usage are 
impracticable, and the man who tries to be a gentleman accord- 
ing to a handbook of etiquette is an object of ridicule; neverthe- 
less there are well established rules of conduct which the culti- 
vated gentleman must know. Such rules and customs are the 
accumulated wisdom of many generations; and, though far from 
perfect, they are better than the spontaneous judgment of inex- 
perienced individuals. 

So casuistry, though the name is not allowed, is, and always 
has been a most interesting and important field of study. We 
are in fact all casuists, constantly exercising the office in deciding 
cases for ourselves, often — perhaps too often — dictating decisions 
for other people. 

496. What we need is not a new science, but a more scientific 
method of procedure in the study of cases, — a more systematic 
Application of the principles of ethics to the actual problems of 
life. 

497. Such a science must be inductive first of all, for it must con- 
sist chiefly of a well considered and thoroughly tested body of 
rules, not formulated from the theories of ethics, but discovered 
by the careful study of concrete cases. Such rules of conduct stand 
in the same relation to ethical principles that the decisions of the 
court stand to the principles of justice. 

For example, in such cases as those concerning rights of labor 
and capital what we need is not a fuller knowledge of the prin- 
ciples of justice, for on these there is substantial agreement, but 
a more definite perception of the rights and duties belonging to 
the relations in which the contending parties stand. 

498. As we advance in our knowledge of such relations, and 
in the store of rules derived from this knowledge, casuistry 



CASUISTRY 223 

becomes more and more deductive, that is, the application of 
established rules to new problems. 

499. In the actual practise of casuistry the simplest method 
of procedure is something like this. 

First : what is the office of functions of the agent in the given 
case. 

Second : what are his rights in the exercise of his office. 

Third: what are the limits of these rights, where do they 
touch the rights of others and find their boundaries. 

Fourth : what conflicts are there to be settled between appar- 
ently inconsistent claims. 

Fifth: a clear statement of the ruling principle in the case. 

The following examples are offered as practical exercises, not 
as covering any considerable part of the field of conduct, but like 
the examples in arithmetic to give a suggestion of method. 

500. A is a lawyer, B is accused of murder. A knows that 
he is guilty, but the extenuating circumstances are such as to 
induce A to labor for his acquittal. He appeals to the passions, 
prejudices and sympathies of the jury and secures his acquittal. 
Now our first question is what is the function of the lawyer, — 
what is the proper function of his office. The answer to this 
must be that it is to promote justice, to aid in the conviction of 
the criminal and in the acquittal of the innocent. He may sell 
to his client his time and labor and legal knowledge and forensic 
skill, but he may not sell his obligation to promote justice. 

The second question is what are his rights in his office. They 
are the right to be heard before an impartial tribunal, to sum- 
mon witnesses and compel them to testify, to make the most fav- 
orable statement of his client's case that the facts will bear, to 
claim for him all the protection that the law provides, and such 
extenuating circumstances as may properly mitigate the severity 
of the letter of the law. In brief he may and should make the 
best statement of his client's side of the case that the facts may 
warrant. 



224 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

The third question is what are the limits of these rights. They 
extend only so far as they may reasonably be regarded as on the 
whole conducive to justice, — on the whole because the other side 
of the case is supposed to be stated by the opposing counsel. 

The fourth question, and the most difficult one in most cases, 
is what consideration is to have most weight where the interests 
of justice seem to demand a choice between two or more legiti- 
mate principles ; for example, should this man be spared the pen- 
alty of his crime because he was provoked beyond endurance and 
has sincerely repented, but by sparing him the majesty of law 
may be impaired and others encouraged to commit crimes. 
Which is the more important duty, to exercise mercy, which 
might well be shown to this man, or to maintain the majesty of 
the law which is so necessary to the permanent security of jus- 
tice! The answer must be determined by a full and comprehen- 
sive view of the whole case in is relations and consequences. 
The decision must be rendered on the principle that the lawyer's 
duty is to promote justice. 

He may appeal to the sympathy and the prejudice of the jury 
so far as they really help the jury to properly conceive of the 
case. He may plead for mercy, so far as it does not injure 
others, or imperil the future. He may even secure acquittal by 
taking advantage of the ignorance of the court and opposing 
counsel because it seems better to let a guilty man escape than to 
damage the machinery by which on the whole innocence is pro- 
tected and crime punished. 

Such a consideration of this case leaves the ultimate decision 
as to the lawyer's duty where it belongs, that is to his own con- 
science — his best judgment as to the course of conduct that will, 
in the long run, be conducive to the maintenance of justice: but 
it simplifies his task of conscience by eliminating all irrelevant 
questions, and putting the case distinctly before his mind. It 
debars all considerations of personal advantage, such as the joy 
of victory, pecuniary gain or enhanced reputation. It compels 



CASUISTRY 225 

broad views and fair consideration of all the elements that prop- 
erly enter into the case. 

The examples given at the end of the book are for practise in 
such analysis and discussion. 



CHAPTER XIII 



THE METAPHYSICS OF ETHICS 



501. Occasionally, a piece of work is so thoroughly well done 
that it never needs to be done again, some subject so well discus- 
sed and the whole truth of it so adequately expressed that it 
seems an impertinence to attempt another statement of it. 

Such a piece of work is Professor James Seth's chapters on 
"Metaphysical Implications of Morality," in his "Ethical Prin- 
ciples," pages 360466. 

Only the painful conviction that many of you, my "gentle 
readers," will not take the trouble to read those admirable chap- 
ters could justify the brief discussion of this subject in this place. 

But some consideration of the ultimate grounds of ethics is 
necessary to the completeness of any outline of the subject. 

502. We have, from the first, assumed that ethics is based on 
certain permanent principles, which form a part of the scheme of 
things which we call the universe. We have conceived of right 
as conformity to this universal order, and wrong as any want of 
harmony with it. 

503. We have also asserted that the only way of discovering 
these principles is by induction — that is by the careful study of 
all the phenomena presented by our mioral nature, and by such 
study of facts arrive at the principles by inference. 

504. In this way, we have reached many conclusions as to the 
factors of conduct, the standard by which conduct is to be 
judged, and some of the more obvious duties arising from the 
relations in which the individual finds himself placed in the 
order of the world of which he forms a part. 

505. But we find that these principles cannot be regarded as 
complete in themselves, cannot be erected with a system that is 

226 



THE METAPHYSICS OF ETHICS 227 

independent of the rest of the universe. They are but a small 
part of the realm of truth, and they touch and depend on the 
general order of the world on every side. 

506. Ethics, like all other sciences, takes the small group of 
phenomena belonging to a certain field of experience and tries to 
find their relations one to another, and the practical use that 
can be made of them. But the deeper question of the relations 
of these principles to the principles discovered in other fields, and 
the mutual relations of all in the whole order of things is the 
province of philosophy or metaphysics. 

507. There is, however, no fixed line of division between sci- 
ence and philosophy; every science borrows certain conceptions 
from metaphysics and assumes them as the basis of its classifi- 
cation, and its working hypotheses. The terms science and phil- 
osophy denote a distinction of degree rather than of kind ; both 
have to do with the relations of things, and the chief difference 
between them is the extent of the field they include in their pur- 
view. 

The study of ethics raises questions which can only be answer- 
ed by going beyond the moral phenomena and considering the 
inter-relations of other principles with those found in ethics. 
And not only does it raise such questions; but the very founda- 
tion of ethics is dependent on their answer. 

508. The most fundamental of these questions are three. 
First ; is there a moral order in the universe — a system in which 
moral phenomena are arranged in certain definite order and rela- 
tions to one another as the phenomena of the rational and physi- 
cal world are arranged? 

Second ; what is the relation of the moral order to the rational 
and physical order — are they all parts of one all-comprehensive 
system, working in harmony, or do they follow different laws 
which sometimes clash? 

Third ; what is the source and origin of such order as there 
is found to be in the universe, — is it the result of the automatic 



228 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

adjustment of moral beings to an environment that happens to 
exist, or is it the work of an intelligent first cause who created 
all things, endowed them with their qualities and forces and 
fixed their relations — which we call their laws? 

Of course there are many other questions, but these are car- 
dinal, on them turn all the others. 

509. Now an order, or system, is nothing but certain relations 
so firmly established that they never change. In such an order, 
certain events follow certain other events in an unvaried se- 
quence, or, in the languages of common sense, every event is due 
to a cause, or causes, acting so uniformly that the same event will 
inevitably and invariably follow the same cause ; as two and two 
will invariably amount to four, or as ice will always melt at a 
certain temperature. The question as to the moral order is 
simply this, do certain consequents follow certain antecedents in 
moral phenomena with the same invariable certainty as they do 
in mathematics or physics. 

510. This is purely a question of fact, and must be answered 
from the evidence presented by observation and experience. The 
facts relevant to this question are, for the most part, facts of con- 
sciousness, not of the external world; the feeling of obligation 
and the pangs of remorse, the sense of honor and the judgments 
of merit are examples of the kind of phenomena which furnish 
evidence on this matter. These facts are not less — but rather 
more, capable of verification than the facts of the physical world ; 
remorse, for example, is a fact as well certified to our under- 
standing as the sensation of pain, and the instinct of sympathy as 
well known as the appetite for food. It is impossible here to 
review the evidence, or to discuss the grounds on which men 
have reached conclusions on this subject; nor is such review 
necessary, since our present interest is served by the verdict ren- 
dered by the judgment of mankind in all ages, which is unani- 
mous in its assertion that there is such an order,— that there is 
a permanent and immutable relation between moral conduct and 



THE METAPHYSICS OF ETHICS 229 

certain conditions of the soul ; that remorse, for example, follows 
the violation of one's sense of duty, and that the tribute of 
respect is spontaneously paid to the hero. We must notice here 
that all we are interested to establish, just now, is that moral 
phenomena have an order among themselves, that they are not 
fortuitous or lawless but form a system, in which cause and 
effect are just as inevitable as in the physical world; and this we 
may regard as certainly established. 

511. But the second question is much more difficult to answer. 
The relations between the moral order and the rational and 
physical order is a question as old as philosophy, and has attracted 
the interest of thoughtful minds down to the present day. 

512. Stated in terms of modern thought the question is, Is 
nature moral? Does the scheme of things so far as we can 
apprehend it, when fairly interpreted, show any favor to moral 
excellence, or is it entirely indifferent to ethical quality. 

513. Of course, the results of our own conduct do show a very 
close correspondence between good conduct and that personal 
welfare which we call success or happiness, for the greater part 
of our duties consist in the voluntary adaptation of our conduct 
to our environment, for the very purpose of promoting our high- 
est welfare. As we have seen, the best formal definition of the 
standard of moral excellence is self-realization. 

514. But the question before us is a much broader one. It is 
concerned with the arrangement of the whole universe, the laws 
of nature, not of our making, but to a good degree making us. 
Does this eternal order of forces and relations show any regard 
for ethical principles? Do "the stars in their courses fight 
against Sisera?" or is the whole case stated in the fact that 
nature "causeth the sun to shine on the evil and on the good, 
and sendeth rain upon the just and on the unjust?" 

515. We may best approach the subject from the point of view 
of common sense, — the moral sense common to men. This spon- 
taneous judgment seems to be unanimous that good men are 



230 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

entitled to reward, that good conduct ought to promote the wel- 
fare of him whose deeds are right; or, at the very least, that 
good conduct should not be the cause of real and permanent evil 
to him who does it. That the universe should be so ordered that 
the good should be, on whole, worse off than the bad seems 
to common sense unthinkable. It is revolting to our instinct 
of justice. If it is so, it implies a discord in the universe, — a 
clashing of the moral order with the rational and physical orders, 
and we have chaos in the universe, and either weakness or male- 
volence in the creator. Our moral judgment seems to assert 
that the way of the transgressor should be hard, and the verdict 
of observation is that on the whole it is so. 

516. The testimony of all the sciences is that the books of 
nature always balance, that harmony is the most prominent fea- 
ture of the physical order. 

517. All these considerations raise a strong presumption that 
somehow the facts of ethics must be in harmony with the facts of 
other fields of science, and that the order of the universe, if 
widely viewed and comprehended, will be found both reasonable 
and benevolent. 

We can hardly doubt that somehow this is so, but we find 
it is very difficult to fit the facts of observation and experience to 
this belief. 

518. Thoughtful men, in all ages, have observed, with surprise 
and consternation, that "there be just men to whom it happcneth 
according to the work of the wicked." 

Like the Hebrew Psalmist they were "sore vexed" when they 
saw how prosperous the wicked were; while "men of whom the 
world was not worthy" were "destitute, afflicted, tormented." 
Moreover, it has been noted that this apparent miscarriage of 
justice in the fortunes of men is but a sample of the defects that 
appear to abound in nature, which Mr. Huxley calls the "un- 
fathomable injustice of the nature of things," and which leads 
him to the conclusion that nature's "moral indifference" culmin- 



THE METAPHYSICS OF ETHICS 231 

ates in her undoing of that moral creation which had seemed her 
fairest work. 

519. Altogether, we have a problem of the most perplexing 
character. No other subject in the world has called forth more 
profound speculation, or has been the theme of so much of the 
world's great literature. The sages of India and Persia, the 
prophets of Judea and the great Greek dramatists, as well as the 
philosophers and moralists of more recent times have pondered 
over this problem, and have offered many answers to it, or some 
contribution toward its solution. We can notice but a few of 
them. 

520. The most radical suggestion is that of Dualism. This 
is the doctrine that there are two opposing powers at work in the 
universe, one good and creative, the other evil and destructive. 
The purposes of the good spirit are benevolent and just, but they 
are constantly defeated by the malevolent activity of the evil 
spirit. The good spirit is the more powerful, and, in the end, 
may utterly subdue the evil, but hitherto this has not been 
accomplished. This, in a very general way, is the teaching of 
Zoroaster, and the faith of ancient Persia; but, with some modi- 
fications, it is very nearly that of some modern philosophers, e. g., 
Mr. Huxley, whose position is summed up in his assertion that 
"the cosmic process bears no sort of relation to the ethical.' , 
That the moral order and the physical order are separated and 
inharmonious, is the answer of dualism, ancient and modern. 

521. The sages of ancient India took a different view. Im- 
pressed with apparent failure of justice in the lives of men, they 
concluded that man's life was not restricted to one incarnation — 
one pilgrimage from the cradle to the grave, but that the immor- 
tal soul may be reincarnate many times. It does not carry over 
any remembrance of one incarnation to another, but does pre- 
serve its identity; and its conduct in the various earthly lives 
are regarded as a whole, and justice is meted out according to 
the sum of good and evil. This is the doctrine of Metempsycho- 



232 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

sis or the transmigration of souls. 

It has had great influence on the Indian people, and still has, 
but is not held by any recognized school of modern philosophy. 
Its wide acceptance in the east may be attributed to the deep and 
excellent system of ethics with which it is associated in the 
Buddhist faith; but its ethics became corrupt by its associations 
with gross idolatry, and it has lost the respect of intelligent 
minds. 

522. Somewhat similar to this is the Greek invention of the 
goddess, Nemesis, the avenging deity whose office it was to exe- 
cute vengeance on the wrongdoer, pursuing him in the under- 
world, the abode of the "shades" of the departed, till the claims 
of justice were fully paid. This doctrine, held literally by the 
earlier Greeks, was gradually sublimated to a more spiritual 
conception, and in the later Greek philosophy Nemesis stood for 
nearly that which we call remorse. The great tragedians — 
especially Aeschylus, made great use of this conception, e. g., in 
the case of Orestes. The idea of the persistence of avenging 
justice is still expressed in our language by the term Nemesis, by 
allusion to this ancient myth. 

523. The Hebrew prophets very early became aware of the 
difficulty presented by this problem. The fundamental article 
of their faith was the unity and supremacy of God. 

"The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof; the world 
and they that dwell therein." 

His supremacy and his righteousness were to them the guar- 
antee of absolute equity in the affairs of men and nations. 

They were therefore profoundly disturbed by the appearance 
of injustice in his dealings with men. The book of Job is by far 
the finest discussion of the matter ever written. In that great 
poem the problem is stated in a concrete case — the case of "a 
man whose name was Job." He is described as "a perfect and 
an upright man who feared God and eschewed evil." But upon 
this upright man, though no fault or mistake of his, but out of 



THE METAPHYSICS OF ETHICS 233 

the very order of things over which he had no control, felL a 
series of crushing misfortunes, so that he was reduced from his 
prosperity to the pitiful plight of utter misery. Childless, penni- 
less, suffering, friendless and with none so poor to do him rev- 
erence; all this is attributed to the divine government of the 
world. The problem is, how can such facts be harmonized with 
the doctrine of a powerful and benevolent government? 

The matter is discussed at length, and the conclusion reached 
is that the question cannot be answered, because the universe is 
so vast and complicated that man has not data enough to judge 
what is just; nor what is really and on the whole to his advan- 
tage, suffering may be a blessing by its results. But the more 
practical conclusion is chiefly emphasized, that is that since we 
have abundant evidence of wisdom and power and benevolence 
in God's government of the world, therefore, trust and obedi- 
ence are reasonable. 

524. The teachings of Jesus are in harmony with this, but 
much more explicit in the repeated emphasis that he puts on the 
supreme value of the inner state of the soul rather than the 
outer circumstances of life. He defines blessedness — welfare, 
almost entirely in terms of subjective excellence. "Blessed are 
those who inherit the Kingdom of Heaven" and "the kingdom 
of heaven is within you." 

The external fortunes of men are only incidental, means of 
blessing or of degradation according to the use we make of them. 
"Those upon whom the tower of Siloam fell" were not necessar- 
ily "sinners." "Neither this man nor his parents sinned that he 
was born blind." All such events are but small items in a great 
account — minute arcs of an immense circle which comprehends 
the universe, and in which all things are ultimately brought to 
justice, but in which the Father in heaven keeps account of the 
sparrow's fall and the very hairs on the head of his saints; in 
which also he "is kind to the unthankful and the evil," but in 
which each shall ultimately give account of himself. 



234 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

525. Altogether aside from the authority that may be attributed 
to this doctrine on account of our belief that Jesus was divine, 
the philosophy here taught commends itself to our acceptance by 
its clearness, its sanity, its ethical dignity and its harmony with 
our moral sense and judgment. It presents a conception of the 
universe that is not only self consistent, but which meets the 
demands of ethics without in the least doing violence to the 
demands of reason or the requirements of physical science. 

526. The presence of evil in the world remains a mystery ; and 
we shall probably never have data enough to explain its pres- 
ence, but we have no reason to suppose that it is not consistent 
with the highest good of man and of the whole creation. 

This much we do observe, that the riddle of Samson is the 
riddle of all life "Out of the eater came forth meat, out of the 
strong came sweetness." 

From the experiences of life that are most painful we derive 
the highest virtues ; and from the reverses that seem destructive, 
come the sweetest graces of the human soul. This fact alone 
would seem to explain much of the mystery of suffering and the 
presence of the possibility of evil. 

527. Taking the broadest purview of the order of the universe 
that is possible to us, we feel justified in the hope at least, if not 
the full conviction, 

"That nothing walks with aimless feet, 
That not one life shall be destroyed 
Or cast as rubbish to the void 
When He has made the pile complete." 

528. This brings us to the greatest of all ethical problems, that 
is the question of the ultimate ground of being, the source and 
author of the universe. How are we to conceive of the ultimate 
reality, of which all phenomena are but the revelation and 
expression ? 

As we are not able to form any complete, or even intelligible, 
system of ethics without advancing into the field of philosophy, 



THE METAPHYSICS OF ETHICS 235 

neither are we able to exclude from our consideration that which 
Aristotle called "the highest philosophy," and which we call 
Theology. As Mr. Fiske truly says, "The teleological instinct in 
man cannot be suppressed or ignored. There is in every learned 
thinker a craving after a final cause; and this craving can no 
more be extinguished than our belief in objective reality. Noth- 
ing can persuade us that the universe is a farrago of nonsense." 
We seek some reasonable answer to the question, who made 
the world and established the order of things which we find 
existing? "Who laid the measures thereof? or who stretched 
the line upon it?" 

529. In physical science we trace activity to forces, inherent, 
essential, permanent, orderly forces; but this is only naming 
certain qualities of matter, not in the least accounting for them. 
In ethics we trace activity to motives, instincts, affections — 
moral forces all; but whence came they and who gave them 
their laws? Or we may turn our faces to the future, and see 
certain good purposes accomplished by the order of ethical phe- 
nomena; but we are not satisfied with this fact; we still ask 
who aimed the moral forces so? who adapted means to ends, and 
guides the complicated energies of men and things to worthy 
issues ? 

530. The workman is known by his work; the agent may be 
inferred, in some degree at least, from the results of his agency, 
and we may reasonably hope to find some knowledge of the 
great first cause in the study of that which has been wrought. 

531. If we have found such adaptation of means to ends, such 
correlation of one part to another as cannot be acounted for but 
by the supposition of some agency outside of both, must we not 
conclude, with Kant, that our "conception of God involves not 
merely a blindly operating Nature as the eternal root of things, 
but a Supreme Being that shall be the author of all things by 
free and understanding action" It seems impossible to deny the 
legitimacy of this reasoning from the phenomena presented to 



236 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

consciousness, either by the senses or by reason, or by our moral 
sense, back to some cause which shall seem adequate to account 
for all these phenomena. It seems also that it is a task laid on 
philosophy to form, by such a process, the fullest conception of 
the author that the facts may justify. We have no right to take 
refuge in the indolence of agnosticism, to willfully shut our eyes, 
and then cry, "I cannot see." 

532. To undertake such a process of inference, to investigate 
all the phenomena presented by the universe is, of course, too vast 
a labor to be undertaken here. All that we are concerned with 
in this connection is to indicate the methods by which the 
assumptions we have made have been established, and to justify 
the use that we have made of them. We have not presented any 
views of the principles of ethics derived from preconceived 
notions of what they ought to be, but have attempted to gather 
from the phenomena of moral consciousness some notion of the 
laws which govern them, by the same method we would use 
in the study of geology or physics. 

533. No better summary of the results of such inference from 
the study of Man's moral nature can be framed than the words 
in which John Fiske sums up his conclusions from the study of 
a somewhat wider field. 

"The infinite and eternal Power that is manifested in every 
pulsation of the universe is none other than the living God. 
We may exhaust the resources of metaphysics in debating how 
far his nature may be fitly expressed in terms applicable to the 
psychical nature of man; such vain attempts will only serve to 
show that we are dealing with a theme that must ever transcend 
our powers of conception. But of some things we may feel sure. 
Humanity is not a mere local incident in an endless and aimless 
series of cosmical changes. The events of the universe are not 
the work of chance, neither are they the outcome of blind neces- 
sity. Practically there is a purpose in the world whereof it is 
our highest duty to learn the lesson, however well or ill we may 



THE METAPHYSICS OF ETHICS 237 

fare in rendering a scientific account of it. When from the 
dawn of life we see all things working together toward the evo- 
lution of the highest spiritual attributes of man, we know, how- 
ever the words may stumble in which we try to express it, that 
God is in the deepest sense a moral Being. The everlasting 
source of phenomena is none other than the infinite Power that 
makes for righteousness. Thou canst not by searching find him 
out; yet put thy trust in Him and against thee the gates of hell 
shall not prevail ; for there is neither wisdom nor understanding 
nor counsel against the Eternal." 

The conclusions to which these observations lead are briefly 
these. 

534. 1. There is a scheme, a system, an order of things embrac- 
ing the whole universe, physical, intellectual and moral, so com- 
plete and harmonious in all its parts that it is properly called 
the Cosmos — beautiful order. 

535. 2. In this all-embracing cosmos, the phenomena of our 
moral nature have their place. Our moral powers have their 
functions and their laws, as absolute and as immutable as the 
courses of the stars or the chemical affinities of atoms. 

536. 3. All human virtue consists in that quality of soul, and 
proper attitude of mind toward the whole contents of the uni- 
verse, as shall enable it to best perform the functions assigned 
to it in the cosmic order of the world. 

537. 4. All duty is the sum of those particular acts which are 
demanded of each individual person in the working of this sys- 
tem. Duties are determined not by the pleasure they may win, 
nor by the custom of the time or place, nor yet by any arbitrary 
laws imposed from time to time, but by the ability we find within 
the will's control, and the place and opportunity afforded in the 
order of our world. 

538. 5. While the system of the universe is fixed and all its 
laws are absolute, yet, in this system and under these laws, the 
human soul moves just as freely as the body moves amid the 



238 THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONDUCT 

physical contents of the world. Somehow, we choose and will 
and do within our limited sphere, according to our own good 
pleasure. 

539. 6. The instincts and affections which we find embodied 
in our constitution are the impelling forces which stir us up to 
action, yet reason holds the reins, and bears the weight of ulti- 
mate responsibility. 

540. 7. And, finally that ultimate responsibility is to the sov- 
ereign ruler, who is long suffering and slow to wrath, but will 
by no means clear the guilty. 

541. Daniel Webster was not discoursing either ethics or phil- 
osophy but speaking from the depths of his human heart in words 
of reflective wisdom, when he said, "The greatest thought that 
ever occupies my mind is that of my personal responsibility to a 
personal God." 



INDEX 

All References are to paragraph numbers 



Abstinence, 369-371 
Affections, 1 14-126 

to the cultivated, 1 1 8-1 21 
Apperception, 100 
Appetencies, 109, 1 14-126 
Appetites, 365-366 
Architect of the soul, 70-79 
Attention, 309-317 
Asceticism, 328-329 
Avarice, 391-393 

Benevolence, 471-472 

Casuistry, 488-500 
Character, 103 
Christian Ethics, 232-244 
Community, the, 455-460 
Conduct, 7, 8, 23 
Conscience, 81 

an instinct, 83 

may be enlightened, 84 

not infallible, 86 
Courage, 396-400 
Culture of Virtue, 306-333 
Custom, 66-69 

Depravity, 251 
Desires, no 
Divorce, 481-485 
Duty, 334-358 
Duties, personal, 359-411 
social, 412-487 

Education, 402-411 
Emulation, 378-379 



Environment, 99, 318-322 
Evolutionary Standard, 193-207 

Factors of Conduct, n 
Family, the, 473 
Freedom of Will, 111-113 
Friendship, 459-46 1 

God, Creator and Ruler, 533 
God's Will as Standard, 158- 

163 
Ground of being, 528 

Habit, 51-65 
Hedonism, 190 

Imagination, 70-80 
Induction Method, 7-8, 18 
Instinct, 25-34, 377-378 
Intention, 10 
Intuition, 179-184 

Law, 4, 20, 168 
Love of God, 122-126 
Loyalty, 421-431 

Marriage, 475-485 
Mechanical Action, 21-22 
Mercy, 286-296, 299 
Metaphysics of Ethics, 501-541 
Minority, rights of, 434"435 
Monastic spirit, 330 
Moral Order, 509-527 
Motives, 106-113 

Neural activity, 23 



*39 



240 

Obligation, 127-132 



INDEX 



Parental duties, 480-486 
Pathology, moral, 245-257 
Perception, 90-97 
Philosophy, 1 

of conduct, 13 

scope of, 17 

and science, 506-507 
Presumptions, 3-4 
Professional duties, 462-470 
Psychology, 16 
Purpose, 9-10 

Redemption, 252-255 
Remorse, 258-269 
Responsibility, 133-147 
Reverence, 286-302 
Rights, 140 



Self-realization, 200-218 
Servants, 487 
Sincerity, 394~395 
Standard of Morals, 148-157 

theories of, 158-218 
State, the, 414-418 

duties to, 419-437 
Suicide, 360-363 
Systems of ethics, 5 

Taste, 35-50 
Thrift, 389-390 

Utilitarian theory, 185-192 

Vindicatory justice, 147 
Virtue, 219-231 
Virtues, 270-280 
Volition, 101 



Self-direction, 98-105 



War, 438-454 



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